


Devil Gonna Follow Me E'er I Go

by Blackparade



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Crazies (2010)
Genre: Crazies AU, Engaged Stucky, F/M, M/M, Pregnant Natasha, Set in Clint's actual hometown of Waverly Iowa, This one is gonna hurt, horror movie au, married clintasha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-24 04:54:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 49,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4906264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackparade/pseuds/Blackparade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Waverly, Iowa is hit with a plague of weaponized disease, the infected become consumed in homicidal rage. Clint, Natasha, Steve, Bucky and a handful of others must try to escape with their lives, while fighting both old friends and ominous government officials.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It is not imperative that you have have seen the movie to understand this work. There are mentions of abuse, so just be mindful of that. I have a lot of ideas for this fic, so feedback is greatly appreciated!!!

Waverly, Iowa. Population 1,260. Other than the banner that hangs in the village green in the center of town that reads Baseball City U.S.A., not much else can be said about the town. It's small enough that the cliche, everybody knows everybody, is glaringly true. That also means that everyone knows everyone else's demons. Clint Barton has a good many demons that he faces everyday. They all stem from his childhood in this town. However, the vacancy of the sheriff's seat offered him exactly the change of pace he was looking for after spending the past seven years of his life with the CIA. It was however, some masochistic higher power that intervened in him buying his family's old farmhouse. Every room holds a different memory. Memories of bloody noses, split lips, and broken bones.

Maybe he just wants to replace the bad memories with new ones. Happy ones. Natasha is making that possible. The couple found out they were pregnant with their first child just two weeks ago, and every day since, his four deputies and their significant others have been over to help with the nursery. They decided to do the room in white and yellow. Not that it really mattered, but neither were defined by a gender. They were also bright and warm and free. Clint wants his child to know that they will always be safe. He will be the father that he never had.

 

* * *

 

It's a beautiful spring afternoon. The type of day where every business, office, and home in the town has their front door wide open.

Natasha just finished with her last patient for the day, and is planning on sending Wanda home early, and has already started to close up shop. The girl is young and stubborn, but Nat can't help but feel maternal towards her. She and her twin brother Pietro were just about born into foster care. They had been here in Waverley for four years, the longest they have stayed in one place in their young lives. Speaking of Pietro, Nat hears his set ringtone playing on Wanda's phone in the next room over, and a few seconds later Wanda conveniently steps through the threshold into her office.

"Doctor Romanov, that was my math tutor. He showed up at my house early today and wants to get started as soon as possible."

Wanda is suspiciously looking everywhere but at Natasha, and she laughs in spite of herself. Might as well have a little fun with this.

"Oh is that right? And he has the same ringtone as Pietro, does he?"

As expected, Wanda is sporting a very guilty look. Her voice is much smaller, making Nat want to wrap her up in a hug.

"There's going to be a big talent scout at the game today, and if I leave now I can make it in time."

Nat just closes up her laptop and tosses an envelope to Wanda.

"You've been here every day this week, sweetheart. Go enjoy yourself. Just make sure my husband gets that letter. It's his new dietary plan courtesy of yours truly."

The smile the girl is wearing is enough to make Natasha's heart completely melt.

"I will, ma'am! Thank you!"

 

* * *

 

"No more chocolate. No more caffeine. No more mint? What the Hell? No more spicy or oily foods. Well, shit. Looks like I'll be eating rabbit food for the rest of my life. I'm too young for this, Steve. I should be able to eat and drink what I want, when I want. I'll take a large cup of Joe. Cream and sugar please."

The young deputy just rolls his eyes exasperatedly at the sheriff placing his order. His smile is genuine, though. That's what Clint likes about him the most. He's always happy. Always smiling. He's simply just a good man. He and his fiancé, Bucky (the town's M.E.) are also Clint and Natasha's best friends in this town.

"Now, didn't you just say no caffeine? And then immediately order a cup of coffee? I should call Nat right now and tell her."

Clint just waves him off dismissively.

"You do that and I'll make Thor my lead deputy. Come to think of it, where the Hell is he?"

Steve points to somewhere behind Clint's head, and the sheriff turns to see the young man being sickeningly adorable with his girlfriend, Jane Foster, the school's vice principal.

"Yup. I should have seen that coming."

The stands are overflowing with family and friends that are here supporting the baseball team. The town has clinched the play offs every year since 1973. The team this year is no exception thanks to Pietro. He's a star pitcher in the most natural sense of the word. He also has the crowd on their feet, just having struck out another player on the opposing team.

"Kid pitches fast."

Clint laughs to himself before turning to respond to Steve.

"Drives fast too."

The familiar sound of leather dress shoes hitting concrete fills the air, as the school principal, Harold Hogan comes over to greet the officers.

"Sheriff! Just wanted to let you know that I opened up a running tab at the snack bar! You won't have to pay for coffee all season!"

The two friends share a knowing smile before turning to Happy.

"Don't think that's going to get you out of your speeding ticket, pal. I can't stretch the rules, not even for friends."

The principal sighs dramatically before smiling again and patting them both on the shoulder.

"Alright, alright. That's fair. Can I at least request that the money from the ticket goes to Natasha's baby shower and Steve's wedding?"

Clint looks to be actually considering the offer before taking another swig of coffee.

"I'll take it up with the mayor."

All three men are startled back into the present by the roaring audience again. Pietro just needs one more strike to get the third out.

Clint feels a hand on his shoulder, and is surprised to see Thor standing behind him. The man's expression is unreadable; Not the warm smile he was wearing with Jane a few minutes ago. He leans down to speak in a low voice in Clint's ear.

"Center field."

Erik Selvig is a man that Clint has dealt with before. He used to drink.

A lot.

He and his deputies were always being called to pick him up from the alley he passed out in, or the front porch he threw up on, or the mayor's expensive car he took a piss on.

What chills Clint to his core is the shotgun in the man's hands.

"Keep everyone back, Thor. Steve, you get those boys off the field."

His cup of coffee is abandoned on the pavement as he takes off towards center field.

"Selvig, What the Hell are you doing? We're playing a game of baseball, and you come out here with a shotgun?"

Clint is taken back to seven years old. The look Erik is wearing mirrors perfectly the cold and cruel stare that his father used to sport while beating the crap out of him. He can only assume that the horrible memories are the reason he is slowly reaching for his pistol. He can here Thor and Steve in the background doing crowd control, and starts to inch closer toward the intruder.

"Erik, you're drunk. That's all. You had one too many drinks, but that's alright. One slip up isn't anything to beat yourself up over. Put the gun down."

Clint feels tremors run through his body. He thinks he was wrong a few moments ago. He used to be able to see the hate and rage in his father's eyes. He can't see anything in this stare. There is lifelessness in Erik's eyes, and it is the most terrifying thing that the sheriff has ever seen.

"Put the gun down. Now. Erik, put. the gun. down."

His heart stops beating in his chest when the man actually raises the gun towards his head.

A single shot rings out for miles around, and as the horrified screams swell like a symphony, Clint realizes he just put a bullet into the man's chest.

He's on his knees over top the man in an instant, but he is already gone. He feels Steve's hand grasp his shoulder, and rises back to his feet.

"Get these.... Dammit. Get these kids out of here."

 

* * *

 

Clint can't help but shutter at the body on the table in front of him. He was just serving at a soup kitchen with the guy not three weeks ago, and he put a bullet in him.

"I'll have the blood-alcohol results in the morning. I took a saliva sample as well just to be thorough. Make sure there was nothing else in his system."

Clint is thankful that Bucky is wearing a warm smile and talking strictly business right now. He's not quite ready to talk about the events of earlier that day. That would make them all too real.

Steve enters the room, and slowly shuts the door behind him.

"Boss, Darcy is here. She seems pretty adamant about wanting to speak with you."

Clint feels his entire being screaming at him to stay hidden away in this room, but his feet carry him toward the door regardless. Bucky and Steve stay close in toe, and he steps out into the parlor to see the Reverend Jasper Sitwell speaking to Darcy.

She looks absolutely broken. This, the same girl who spread her wings and left town to make a name for herself as a lead journalist for TIME magazine. The same girl who had more confidence and spunk then anyone in Waverly.

She had just gotten home four days ago, and Clint went and shot and killed her father.

He's vaguely aware of Sitwell's hand on his shoulder, but spares no look at the man as he speaks.

"Maybe now's not the best time, sheriff."

"Darcy, I'm so sorry. I really liked Erik. He was my friend, you have to understand that."

When she spoke, Clint could hear her broken heart barely beating.

"What was he doing out there?"

Silence. He can't bring himself to say it.

"We think he was under the influence."

She stares daggers at the sheriff, and he feels the rage emanating from her small body.

"He has been sober for two years. He was so damn proud, you know this! Thor was taking him to his AA meetings every week."

Clint tries to rest a hand on her shoulder, but she shies away.

"Is that what you're saying? That's what you're telling everybody? The town drunk tries to go on a shooting rampage, so the sheriff has to save the day?"

The slap lands directly across his face before he even sees it coming. Darcy is out the door a moment later.

 

* * *

 

The incessant beeping from the next room over means that the scan that Bucky had running on the saliva sample is finished.

He grabs the still warm paper as it exits the printer.

He has to read the paper three or four times to truly grasp what it says.

"Traces of rhabdovirdae. What the Hell?"

He grabs his keys, makes sure everything is locked up, exits the building, and walks over to the Ford truck sitting alongside the curb.

He smiles when Steve cups their hands together and pulls his up to place a soft kiss on his knuckles.

"Babe, drive us over to see Kara. I need to ask her a few questions."

Steve is giving him a strange look, and Bucky either wants to slap or kiss it off of him.

"You need to talk to the veterinarian about the scan you did on Selvig?"

"Well, seeing as he may have had a severe case of rabies, yeah. I kind of do."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evil is lurking everywhere in Waverly. A shocking event takes place, and chills everyone to their core.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I picked things way up in this one. We are about to get catapaulted into this full force. I'm going to deviate a lot from the 2010 version, in favor of some aspects of the 1973 original that were done better. Keep giving me feedback!

The first rays of morning light have hardly risen in the sky when Natasha turns over in bed to find Clint's side cold and empty. Trying in vain to rub the sleep from her eyes, she looks to the clock to see it read ten minutes to six in the morning. From somewhere on the back porch, she can hear what sounds like a saw cutting into plywood. If history stands consistent, Clint has probably been out there since she fell asleep. Wrapping herself up in a robe, she begins to make her way out of the room. She pauses at the top of the stairs however, in front of the nursery.

The walls had all been painted in a warm yellow. Clint and Bucky had bet Steve, Sam, and Thor that they could paint two walls quicker than the three deputies, resulting in words probably not fit for the future home of a newborn, but the room was painted in record time, so she chose not to scold the boys. The rocking chair that sat beneath the window was her favorite part of the room, though. She, Jane and Maria had spent weeks searching flea markets and mom and pop furniture stores for the perfect crib, and found the gem along the way. They reupholstered it together, and in the end, the bright colors and sleek lines were the most captivating thing in the room.

She doesn't know when she starts to absentmindedly rub small circles on the top of her stomach, but smiles nonetheless once she realizes what she's doing.

As expected, Clint is on the back porch cutting away at what looks like siding for the shed. Funny, she thinks, because Clint has a list of jobs that need done around the house, and if her memory serves her well, the shed fell at sixteen or seventeen. She has to hold back the urge to ask if he had been up all night checking off items on the list and had already made it that far.

Instead, she settles for laying a comforting hand on his back, and is pleasantly surprised when he immediately melts under her touch. It's good to know she still has this type of affect on him after all this time.

"Clint. Love, you did the right thing."

She wishes she can say the lingering silence following her words surprises her, but it is exactly the response she had been waiting for.

"Listen to me, Clint. The man had a gun at a baseball game. There were how many kids on that field? How many people in those stands that he could have hurt........ Or killed."

More silence.

"You did the right thing."

He doesn't say anything still, but at least turns to face her.

His left hand comes to rest on her stomach. This silence is a bit more comforting. Clint's presence in and of itself is always as such for Natasha. He makes her feel safe. Always safe.

"My dad used to say I was a coward because I WOULDN'T defend myself. How then, does shooting a good man, who was my friend, in self-defense make me feel like the weakest piece of shit on the planet?"

She flinches at the severity in his voice. She knows empty words of comfort won't work. She tries a different approach of speaking to her husband.

"Say you hadn't done it. He would have killed you."

"Tasha."

"No. Just listen to me speak. He would have killed you, and then what? Steve was on the field behind you. He would have been burdened with taking the shot. Now, his best friend is dead, and he has to live with that choice. He's about to get married, Clint. Would you have wanted that?"

"You're not seeing the whole picture honey, I....."

"Stop. I'm not finished. Say he shoots you. Darcy then has to live with the fact that her father murdered a man that she has known since she was a little girl. In time she'll understand why you did what you did."

He is just staring out at the horizon now. Natasha keeps at it.

"What about me? You would have left me behind to raise a child by myself. Is that a better scenario?"

He places both his hands in her's. They are the hands of a man who is rebuilding a house full of old demons. Together, they are exorcizing the past and building a home, and a life. Hands that will now and forever feel the kick from his pistol as he took Erik's life. She holds tight to them, wanting him to feel something, anything, other than that.

"Doesn't make it hurt any less."

She doesn't hesitate to place a soft kiss on his lips.

"That's what I'm here for."

 

* * *

 

 

"No ma'am. The sheriff hasn't gotten in yet."

Maria looked up from where she was standing at the counter to wave at Clint just entering the building.

"Well, that's an ongoing investigation. Deputy Wilson and myself will be here all day if you have any further questions."

She smiles at the sheriff as she hangs up the phone and hands him the incident report they filed after the game.

He's much happier to receive the cup of coffee in her hands next.

"I thought you weren't supposed to be drinking coffee anymore, Chief."

It's still early in the morning, so he can't be blamed for the labored sigh at her words.

"You're all traitors. Every last one of you."

The phone once again starts to ring, and Hill makes a show of rolling her eyes before taking the calls once again.

Clint is no sooner sat behind his desk before Hill is calling over to him.

"That's Barnes on line two."

Thank goodness. Clint can get the final word from Bucky about the cause of the incident, and maybe then the whispers around town will stop.

"Hey, kiddo. What's the verdict?"

He hears a faint intake of breath and then the line is silent for a few moments.

"There wasn't any alcohol in Selvig's system, Clint. He was completely sober."

Needless to say, that was not what the sheriff was expecting to hear.

"That can't be right."

He doesn't know why the last line comes out in a whisper. Maybe because he has no other explanation for why Erik carried a damn shotgun onto a crowded baseball field and tried to shoot him in the head.

"I've got a few more tests I want to run, and I'm currently following a hunch. Bobbi even came down here to help me out. We'll figure everything out, pal. Don't you worry."

He hesitates before sprawling out the 0.0 next to Erik's BAL.

"Thanks, Bucky."

 

* * *

 

 

"You're not gonna tell him about the rhabdovirdae?"

Bucky hangs up with Clint, then finishes typing up the e-mail he plans to send to Helen Cho, the head of biology at Mount Mercy in Cedar Rapids.

"Not yet. We both examined that body at least seven times each. There were no bite marks, claw marks, anything. I want to be completely sure before I give him an answer."

The music from the front of the building becomes increasingly louder. The sounds of Johnny Cash's "When The Man Comes Around" fill the room.

"Don't mind him, Bobbi. The Reverend always gets like this when I've got a body back here."

She just laughs. She takes off her lab coat and hangs it on a hook before making to exit the room.

"I used to think Phil's mother hen act was bad. He would always slink in here when I would stay late and wax poetic about every job being of equal importance in God's eyes, all the while I was cutting into a dead body. On especially late nights, he'd call his wife Melinda down so we could all have a glass of scotch. Then he'd say a prayer begging for forgiveness for drinking the damn stuff in a morgue. I'm kind of glad we both found new employment. I always end up back in this damn morgue, though."

Bucky knows the grin he's sporting is a guilty one, because Bobbi pats him on the shoulder as she exits the morgue.

"If it gets too late and you realize you and Steve have no plans for dinner, Lance and I are having stuffed peppers tonight. The two of you are more than welcome."

Bucky just smiles sheepishly and breaths out a small laugh while giving his thanks. He leans back over his computer to continue reading the article that Dr. Cho had written a few years earlier on severe cases of rabies in humans, when he hears soft footsteps falling on the tiled floor.

"What'd you forget?"

"So there was hail, and fire flashing continually in the midst of the hail, very severe, such as had not been in all the land of Egypt since it became a nation."

Bucky is startled by the new voice, and whips around to see Sitwell standing at the foot of the examination table, staring ominously at Erik's body. The man has always been a stoic type, but there was always warmth in his eyes.

Not now.

Bucky feels a chill enclose around him as the reverend starts to walk slowly toward him.

"This world is wrought with evil, James. It hides away in happy homes and cheerful gatherings and silent moments with loved ones. It slowly consumes beings that used to be wholesome and pure, corrupting them and mutilating them until they are a grotesque shadow of what they used to be. So, let me ask you. Do you know the face of evil, and are you willing to protect yourself and those you love from it?"

Sitwell is so close, Bucky could lift his hand right in front of him and have a fistful of the man's shirt. He's staring into Bucky's soul, it seems, waiting for him to give the wrong answer.

Bucky is surprised at how small his voice sounds, and wishes he didn't sound so terrified in front of a man he has known and worked with for four years.

"I..... I hope I never have to."

The tense situation dissipates as quickly as it started, however, as Sitwell looks back up at Bucky and smiles.

"I'm sorry, son. Everything that's been happening must be getting to my head. I'll leave you be."

It takes several minutes after Sitwell leaves the room for Bucky's heartbeat to return to normal.

 

* * *

 

 

The baseball field looks straight out of some post-apocalyptic scene this morning. The clear blue skies would normally be a beautiful sight, but the absence of all the laughter and cheers that filled this field the day before makes everything feel ominous.

Clint has been standing in the same spot for the past twenty minutes, and is starting to get consumed in the silence.

"Aw, coffee. No."

He reaches down to grab the abandoned cup, and pours what's left of it into the gravel, then turns to leave.

Happy must have snuck in while he was lost in thought, because the man is also staring out at the field from his perch in the stands.

"Happy?"

No response. Clint repeats himself, this time a little louder.

"Happy. Hello? Happy."

The man just continues to stare off into the distance. Clint slowly starts to inch toward the man. He doesn't know how much more of this Jason Vorhees act he can take. Happy had gotten his nickname for a reason. Ten seconds with the guy, and you were doubled over with laughter. Now, he's wearing the same look that Erik had been holding the day before. The exact same damn look.

"Happy! Are you going to answer me or do I have to hit you upside the head?"

Something breaks through to the other man, because he slowly comes into the moment. His expression now looks lost.

"I can feel it to sheriff. Something in the air. It's descending on us with each passing minute. What does it all mean?"

Clint doesn't have a chance to respond, as a bell off in the distance at the school summons Happy away.

"I have to go. Just.... Be careful, Clint. The Devil himself is alive in this town."

 

* * *

 

 

"Hope, Cassie! Scott, good morning! What can I do for you?"

Hope Van Dyne was a strong woman. She helped Scott wrestle through the ghosts of his criminal past to build a stable environment for his daughter. So the look that she is giving Natasha now is worrisome, because there is nothing but fear in her eyes.

"Can you please take a look at Scott?"

"Sure I can. What's wrong?"

"He's..... not right."

 

* * *

 

 

"How are you feeling, Scott? Any pain or discomfort?"

Nothing.

It's been this same act since Natasha walked in here with him a few moments ago. He is holding a void stare, and it is setting her nerves completely on edge.

"Scott? Did you hear me?"

The hand she places on his shoulder must be enough to awaken something inside of him, because he gives her a soft smile.

"She worries too much is all. I'm fine. Just a little tired."

Nat returns his smile, then turns to write down her final observations.

"Any big plans over the weekend? Clint and I are going to finally renovate the upstairs guest bathroom if you have some free time."

The man she knew would have been cracking up at the joke, but this man. This lifeless man sitting across from her is not the Scott Lang she knows.

"Scott?"

"She worries too much is all. I'm fine. Just a little tired."

 

* * *

 

 

"His vitals are fine, he just had a slight fever. I'm seeing a patient in Cedar Rapids on Monday. I'd like to take him with me to have a CT-scan done. Just to make sure it's nothing serious."

Hope looks conflicted. Natasha follows her gaze to see that she's staring at Cassie, not Scott.

"I love her like she's mine."

Natasha wraps Hopes nearest hand in both of her's.

"She might as well be! You changed her life, honey. His too."

Hope finally, finally smiles.

"Thank you."

As Natasha waves them off, the wonderful aroma of caramel iced coffee fills the air. Bucky. He is a saint.

"I love you, you know that?"

"Aaww, Natalia. You're so sweet. So is this coffee. Clint's pissed you ordered him off the stuff."

"He's been drinking it, and your fiancé has been covering for him."

Bucky just laughs. Steve can be such a little shit. He has a purpose for coming other than dropping off the treat, so he clears his throat and begins to speak.

"Have you ever dealt with any cases of rabies in humans before?"

The face she is giving him would be comical under any other circumstances.

"Not personally, but it never ends well. It's almost always fatal."

Bucky shutters at that. It was definitely fatal for Erik Selvig.

"Is it only contracted through a bite?"

She raises an eyebrow at him.

"Why the sudden interest in rabies?"

"I ran a screen on Erik's saliva, and it showed traces of rhabdovirdae."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah. That's what I said."

"Well, the fully incubated disease can only be spread through a bite, but the virus itself is primarily waterborne. Saliva based. He very well could have had rabies, if that's what you're asking."

"I'm not so sure. He was with Thor, just.... two days ago? The infected, especially humans, don't deteriorate that fast. I couldn't find a bite on him either, so how did the virus find its way into his system?"

She looks stumped.

"Well, let me ask you this. What are some of the symptoms?"

"Early symptoms are a slight fever, confusion, exhaustion....."

She drops her coffee onto the pavement.

"Nat, what the Hell!?"

Bucky chases her back into the building as she grabs for her phone and starts dialing frantically.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up."

"Want to tell me who you're trying to call?"

"Hope! Scott was just here. God dammit, it didn't even register until you showed up."

No answer.

"Shit."

Bucky grabs both her shoulders and makes her meet his eyes.

"What is going on?"

"Scott showed every damn symptom I just named in his check-up just now."

"Keep trying to get a hold of her, I'm gonna run over to the station and tell Steve what's going on."

As Bucky runs out the door, Natasha's heart sinks even further into her stomach, when once again, Hope doesn't answer.

 

* * *

 

 

"Steve!"

"Buck, what's wrong?"

Bucky grabs ahold of his fiancé and catches his breath, then meets his eyes.

"Natasha thinks that Scott Lang is infected, possibly rabies. We need to get over to his place right now."

Sam, the asshole, actually starts to laugh.

"Of all the excuses to pull him away from work to have sex, this is the lamest one yet."

Bucky holds back the urge to punch his best friend in the face.

"I'm serious."

"Wait, babe, weren't you saying that Selvig had the virus too?"

"Yes. And he carried a shotgun onto a baseball field. Let's go!"

All three men exit the building and hop into a cruiser.

 

* * *

 

 

The car hasn't even come to a complete stop, when both Steve and Bucky begin running toward the house.

"Hope! Hope, are you here!?"

Steve feels relief flood over his body when she comes rounding the corner into the main hallway.

"Steve, what are you doing here? Oh God, is Scott alright?"

"He's not here?"

"No, he left as soon as we got back from our visit with Natasha."

Bucky steps around Steve to speak to her as Sam also enters the house.

"Hope. Hun, where is Cassie?"

"She's upstairs, just, what the Hell is going on?"

Bucky is already halfway up the steps before Steve can formulate a sound answer.

"Natasha has reason to believe that he has contracted rabies. It's best that we find him and get him out to Cedar Rapids to get a solid diagnosis."

Hope is staring at Steve with a very unreadable expression. She shakes her head as if to reign in her emotions, then starts to exit the room.

"I'll grab my cell, try to give him a call."

Steve allows a small smile at the sight of Bucky walking down the steps, his hand wrapped around Cassie's.

"She's taking me to see her new princess castle!"

Steve places a soft kiss on his fiancé's cheek as he lets the little girl lead him out back.

"Steve, Steve come here!"

He and Sam bolt into the kitchen when they hear the fear in Hope's voice.

They stop just in front of her, standing above the shattered remains of her cellphone on the kitchen counter.

"He must have done this."

Her voice is barely a whisper. The woman is absolutely terrified.

"We're gonna find him, don't you worry."

Sam is already at her side, when Steve starts dialing Clint's number, stepping out of the room all of a sudden, needing to see Bucky. Know that he's alright.

"Clint. Okay, okay, stop yelling. I assume you've talked to Nat. I'm calling you now, that counts for something, doesn't it? Sam and I are with her now. Gotcha. Bye."

He finds Bucky and Cassie in the back parlor. Cassie circling around Bucky, who is smiling and laughing while pretending to be tied to the chair.

"Uh-oh, Cas. My knight in shining armor is here to rescue me!"

"Are you a prince, Bucky? Is that why he's rescuing you?"

"He's my prince, Cassie."

The girl gives them both a wide grin before leaning down to whisper to Bucky.

"I think Mr. Steve likes you a whole lot."

Bucky just wraps the girl in a hug.

"I think you're right, sweetheart."

She runs along out of the room, and Steve places a soft kiss on Bucky's lips.

"My hero."

"Shaddup, Buck. We put out an APB on Scott. Clint wants someone to stay posted here, just in case he comes back. I'm going to have Sam drive you and Cassie to Hope's mother's house on the other side of Cedar Rapids."

Bucky doesn't seem to keen on the idea, so Steve gives him another kiss before clutching him to his chest.

"She adores you. Just tell her it's for tonight, and by the time you get back my watch here will be over. I'll make something nice for dinner, and we'll forget about all this crazy shit that's been going on."

"Yeah, okay."

A few minutes later, finds Bucky loading the young girl into the back of Sam's cruiser, and Steve sitting with Hope, praying that Scott doesn't try anything like Selvig did.

 

* * *

 

 

"Cream and sugar?"

"Yes, please."

Maria had just gotten to the house about five minutes ago. Hope looks like she's been to Hell and back, the events of the day absolutely draining her.

Seven hours later, and Scott still hadn't shown up anywhere. Thor and Clint had resorted finally to knocking on doors, just on the off chance someone in town had seen him. Natasha had brought over cookies earlier, and Steve had sent a text saying, 'call me if you need me, but don't need me', allowing her to imagine what is going on over at the Rogers-Barnes household.

Hope places the mug in front of Maria, then takes the seat opposite her, and just stares down into her cup.

"I'm so scared, Maria. He's never done anything like this."

Maria reaches over to grab her hand.

"Everything's going to turn out alright. That man loves you and Cassie. He'll turn up, and when he does, we'll get him some help."

Hope allows a small smile, when suddenly, light comes flooding in through the kitchen window.

They both leap out of their seats, and Maria very slowly pulls back the curtain to reveal the barn out back to be the source of the blinding light.

"That's the thresher. He's gotta be out there."

Maria hardly catches the words, as they just barely ghost over Hope's lips.

She immediately grabs for her radio.

"All available units to 1715 Milgrom Court, possible hostile."

She just as quickly unholsters her gun.

"Stay here, I'm going to check that out."

 

* * *

 

 

The thing is massive. And terrifying. Hill has her gun raised the entire time. Very slowly she begins to creep up to the operator's seat. She almost breathes a sigh of relief to find it empty. Reaching down to the key to shut the thing off, she feels every nerve in her body tense. If Scott isn't in here, then where the Hell is he? She exits the barn, and begins to circle the perimeter. Maybe if she hadn't been so lost in thought, she would have heard the man creeping up behind her.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve is awoken by the sound of his phone buzzing madly on the bedside table. He tries to reach for it, but finds that he is pinned underneath Bucky.

He looks to the clock to see it read ten after three in the morning.

Whoever is calling him must have a damn good reason.

He decides that the smack he gets when he wakes his fiancé is worth it, then answers Thor's call.

"Hello?"

"Steve, get down to Scott's now. The entire fire department just headed out that way, I guess the whole place is in flames."

"I'm on my way."

Bucky grabs a hold of his hand before he can move.

"I'm coming with you."

"The Hell you are."

"Steve, I just sat in a car earlier today, and explained to Cassie that she had to leave her parents, and didn't even have a reason as to why. I'm going with you."

"Fine. But you're staying in the car."

 

* * *

 

 

Steve's not surprised when Bucky hops out of the car as soon as it stops.

"Clint what the Hell happened?"

Clint looks like he's seen true evil, and then Steve sees him. Scott is sitting in the back of Sam's cruiser, whistling some church tune. Sam has Maria wrapped in a blanket in the open back of an ambulance, and Steve sees blood on the side of her head. She too looks like she has seen the face of the Devil. Bucky is standing with Natasha wrapped in his arms, the woman's entire body shaking with sobs.

"Clint, what the fuck is going on!?"

He keeps staring at the burning house.

"He torched the place. Hope was in there, Steve. She didn't make it out. He fucking burnt her alive."

Steve feels the air rush from his body, and he has to grab onto the side of the nearest cruiser to keep himself upright.

From somewhere nearby, he hears a few bars of "All Things Bright And Beautiful" whistled in the back of a police cruiser.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly is slowly being consumed in evil. Everyone is just fighting to stay alive.

_"Reports have been coming out of the incident all morning. The fire seems to have been set by local resident Scott Lang. Ms. Van Dyne is so far the only reported casualty. Scott's young daughter, Cassie......"_

 

Natasha switches off the radio and drives in silence. It's very fittingly an unusually cold and gray morning.

 

She eventually pulls to the side of the road and stops fighting the tears in her eyes.

 

It's her fault.

 

She let Scott walk out of that office and kill Hope. She should have known. She should have fucking known.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"How long has he been playing statue?"

 

Thor is looking in on Scott. The man is just staring straight ahead. Eyes completely lifeless.

 

"Since six this morning. The bastard will go back and forth between this, and begging God for forgiveness. I called for an armed transport which should be arriving within the hour."

 

The two can't seem to turn away from the sight.

 

Suddenly, the bell above the door rings as someone new enters the building. Expecting it to be one of the other deputies, they turn instead to find the mayor, Tony Stark, and a man dressed in full army uniform enter the building.

 

"Morning, gentleman. I'm Colonel James Rhodes with the United States Air Force. I'm here to speak with the sheriff."

 

Clint steps forward to shake the man's hand.

 

"That'd be me. How can I help you?"

 

Stark looks jumpy. More so than usual. Clint can tell that something isn't right.

 

"Let me first apologize for bursting in unannounced, but I'm here under very extraneous circumstances. Two days ago I got a call from my supervisor, saying that a C-130 had gone down in a small town in Iowa. Tony's an old friend of mine, so when I saw that it had crashed here in Waverly, I booked the next flight out of D.C.. The plane was on it's way to a base in Montana, its contents meant to be destroyed."

 

Thor sits up from his chair suddenly causing the three other men to stare at him.

 

"Two days ago we got a call from Justin Hammer saying that he heard something big crash out in Odin's Mire. Hill and I didn't even give the call a passing glance."

 

Tony lets out a humorless laugh and turns to the deputy.

 

"Because he's full of shit?"

 

Thor gives the mayor a genuine smile before continuing.

 

"Full to the brim."

 

Clint clears his throat and gets everyone's attention on him.

 

"You said the cargo was meant to be destroyed? What was the craft carrying?"

 

Rhodes hesitates.

 

Now Clint is certain something is very, very wrong.

 

"The name being thrown around the Capitol is Extremis. It......"

 

Scott suddenly jumps toward the cell bars and starts screaming at the four other men.

 

"It was created as a biological weapon, and if you'll excuse me,"

 

Before anyone in the room has time to even blink, he pulls out his sidearm and places a bullet between Scott's eyes.

 

"That man was very much infected."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Bucky has never been very religious. That's why he's surprised to end up sitting in a pew inside of the eerily quiet and empty church just across the street from the morgue.

 

He had been sitting here for almost a half hour. He's pretty sure Sitwell was somewhere in the building, but after the last encounter Bucky had with the man, he wasn't at all eager to speak with him.

 

All he can think about is Cassie. He feels silent tears start to roll down his cheeks. The girl had been so full of love and life yesterday. He can't imagine what the news is going to do to her.

 

He stands and walks toward the pulpit, stopping in front of the baptismal pool.

 

He had told that little girl that she would just have to spend one night at her grandmother's house, and then she'd be returned to her dad and Hope. Now, she will never see her step-mother again, and if she does ever see her dad, it will either be in a maximum security prison or insane asylum.

 

An audio alert on his phone snaps Bucky out of his thoughts. It's a text alert saying that an alarm had been set off inside the morgue.

 

A prevailing instinct had him dialing Steve's number before he had even finished reading the alert.

 

"Hel....." 

 

"Where are you?"

 

"I love you too, honey. My day is going just fine, thanks for asking."

 

Bucky audibly sighs. His asshole fiancé would try something smart.

 

"Steve, shut the Hell up and answer my question."

 

"I'm two blocks from the station, why?"

 

"An alarm was triggered at the morgue. Meet me there as soon as you can."

 

When Steve speaks again, it's with the same protective warmth that makes Bucky absolutely melt.

 

"I'm on my way already."

 

As he exits the church, he begins dialing Bobbi's number.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Bobbi, you aren't at the morgue right now, are you?"

 

"No I'm not, why?"

 

"I'll let you know as soon as I find out. Sorry for bothering you."

 

"Not at all, love."

 

As he reaches the opposite side of the road, he slows his pace before very quietly entering the main parlor of the funeral home, his 'office' sitting in the back of the building.

 

He just stands and listens. The room is perfectly silent, the shadows cast by the furniture in the room looking like distorted faces spreading across the floor.

 

Against his better judgement, he begins to step toward the back half of the building.

 

He's out cold on the floor an instant later.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Steve is sure that nothing serious is wrong. That alarm goes off every time the wind blows a tad to hard. Everything that has happened recently has been eating away at his nerves however, making his mind immediately paint out the worst scenarios possible.

 

"What the Hell?"

 

He watches as Dottie Underwood pedals her bike to the center of the street, right toward his cruiser.

 

He hits the brakes, but she keeps coming in his direction, the smile she's wearing very unsettling. The woman herself is actually quite unsettling as a general rule, but in this moment much more so, and Steve can't help the shutter that sweeps over his body. She stops the bicycle about four feet from the front of his car. Then she just sits there for a few fleeting moments, staring at him with that too sweet smile on her face.

 

Suddenly, as if realizing that she is in the middle of the damn road, waves at Steve apologetically and rides off in the direction she came.

 

Realizing that she may be intoxicated, he sends a quick text to Bucky telling him not to go anywhere near the alarm until he gets there, and begins following Dottie.

 

She must realize she's being tailed, because she picks up her pace, and rounds a corner into an alley a little further down the street.

 

As he rolls up next to the spot where she cut out, he finds the bike abandoned on the pavement, Dottie nowhere in sight.

 

Placing the cruiser in park, he just stares dumbly at the bike. What the fuck was she doing, and why the Hell would she run from him?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Natasha finally pulls up outside of her office, but hesitates to exit the car. She doesn't yet feel ready to enter the last place she saw Hope alive. The place where she sent her friend off to her death.

 

She's pulled out of her grief-laden thoughts when a figure inside the building darts past her periphery. She had given Wanda the day off, so no one should be inside the building today.

 

The same figure passes by the window, and this time, she can see that he is wearing a lab coat.

 

She nearly sprints to the entrance door, and after turning the key in the lock, throws it open.

 

It's enough to startle the man that has invaded her place of employment. He just stares wide-eyed at her, clearly to shocked to formulate a response.

 

"May I kindly ask who the fuck are you, and what the fuck are you doing in my office?"

 

The man at least has the decency to look guilty, before raising his hands out in front of him, as if wanting to placate the very tense situation.

 

"My name is Bruce Banner. I'm here on behalf of the CDC and the United States Air Force. We're investigating a possible wide-spread contamination of this town's water supply. I was hoping that you would already be here when I arrived, but I had to let myself in."

 

She just stares on at him. Then, slowly, what he just told her starts to register in her mind.

 

"A contamination of what?"

 

His face hardens just the slightest bit, but it's enough to make Natasha's stomach jump completely.

 

"It's a weaponized virus known as Extremis. An aircraft carrying the virus crashed about two miles outside of the town, and released the strain into the arterial flood ways surrounding Waverly."

 

Everything sort of slots into place in her mind in that moment. Both Erik and Scott had traces of rhabdovirdae in their saliva. They also lived on the first two properties that the water from the bog reached. If whatever that plane had been carrying had entered the water, it could be the same thing that caused their mental deterioration.

 

"What does the government plan to do about the contamination?"

 

Bruce drops his hands at his sides and tries for a disarming smile. He fails miserably.

 

"Colonel Rhodes is talking with the sheriff about a possible quarantine center at the high-school as we speak. There, we can get a grasp of how wide spread this thing is, and start trying to find a cure for the infected. I was hoping you could help with that."

 

Natasha finally staggers to the nearest chair, and let's herself fall into it.

 

"You want a rabies immunoglobulin? I don't have the capacity for an operation like that, Dr. Banner. This is a small town. Besides, all chances of an antibody fighting the virus ended when the government weaponized it."

 

The man seems to consider her words thoroughly, before finally huffing out a defeated breath, and taking a seat across the room from her.

 

They sit in silence for a few minutes, before the doctor finally gives her another shy smile.

 

"It had to be rabies. Why couldn't they have weaponized something simple? Like pinkeye?"

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"YOU ARE AWARE THAT YOU JUST SHOT AND KILLED A MAN, RIGHT?"

 

Tony has his back turned to the entire group. Clearly, he doesn't like the sight of Scott's blood splattered onto the wall. Thor is holding Clint back from attacking Rhodes. The man seems unfazed by what he just did, however.

 

"Sheriff, I told you. He was clearly infected. We know that this virus so far only incubates in water, but we can't afford to take any chances. Whoever that man was before, this virus wiped all that away. I need to know that I can trust you to help me lead your town through this."

 

Clint makes a show of calming down, causing Thor to release his hold on the man. He allows himself a few deep breaths, then turns to face Rhodes once again.

 

"Lead them through what exactly? We drop the news of a biological emergency, and the whole town goes into a panic. How do you plan on making them cooperate long enough to find a solution? You've obviously seen what happens once the virus takes affect."

 

Tony finally seems to gather himself. He takes a breath and then turns to face Clint. This is the Tony that he came to know and respect. The man had a perfect poker face and a natural diplomatic quality. He cared about this town. Very much.

 

"We'll talk to the Reverend. Ask him to speak to the people in a mandatory town meeting at the church. Sheriff, if you'll be so helpful, we could maybe also say a few words. Try to keep everyone calm."

 

Clint has to admit to himself that Tony's plan is a good one. If the people of Waverly hear three people of power in the town saying that things were going to be handled and resolved, maybe then they will believe it.

 

He reaches for the phone behind him, then starts to dial Steve's number.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Steve, I need you to head on down to your fiancé's office and retrieve Sitwell for me. I'll explain everything else once you get here."

 

"Got it, Chief. See you soon."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Bucky jolts awake, sucking in every last bit of air he can manage.

 

The last thing he remembers is entering the front of the building, before his mouth was being covered by some type of cloth, and he was passed out on the floor.

 

What he notices first is that he's laying on his back. On top of an examination table. Tied down to it, actually.

 

What he notices next makes his blood run cold.

 

Selvig's body is hung in a crucifixion on the wall at the foot of the table he's tied down onto, blood pouring from fresh wounds all over his body. Incisions that he knows he and Bobbi didn't make.

 

"I cut and cut and cut, but I couldn't find the demons inside of him."

 

Sitwell materializes out of thin air right next to Bucky, and looks down at him with a dead stare.

 

"They must have left his body when he died. So, that must mean that I need a live test subject. I'm so glad you volunteered. The Lord will reward your service, Son."

 

Pain. Unbearable, screaming pain is what comes next.

 

Sitwell is very slowly and methodically dragging a scalpel across Bucky's stomach.

 

"Once I'm done, the evil in you will be gone. Then I can perform the procedure on myself. I can save this town from itself, James."

 

Bucky knows that he is losing a lot of blood. With the strength that he has left, and a sudden surge of adrenaline, he lifts his head to see a pair is scissors within reach. As soon as Sitwell has his back turned, he grabs for the scissors, and luckily, cuts the small rope that has him tied to the table.

 

"I'm going to make another incision now, this one will be deeper, so...."

 

His words are cut off when Bucky jams the pair of scissors into his eye when he turns to face him.

 

In a heartbeat, Bucky is off the table and running for the front of the building.

 

He wants to cry when he sees Steve's cruiser pull up outside the building.

 

"STOP!"

 

The same scalpel used on his stomach minutes before is now plunged into his shoulder blade. He staggers with the pain, and falls to his hands and knees.

 

Bucky is able to pull the thing out of his back, but Sitwell throws his foot up into his stomach while he's on the ground.

 

He rolls over onto his back, and the Reverend takes the opportunity to grab the knife from him.

 

"You shouldn't have done that, James. You made me very angry."

 

Bucky just closes his eyes and waits for the man to stab him in the chest or the neck, but instead almost jumps out of his skin when he hears a gunshot ring out in the small room.

 

His heartbeat slows incrementally once he's being lifted into Steve's arms.

 

"I've got you. Just close your eyes. I'm going to get you out of here."

 

He wishes he had listened to those words, because as soon as Steve turns to exit the building, Bucky looks back to see Sitwell with a hole blown through his chest, and that same dead smile on his lips.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading!!!! Keep giving feedback!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New faces emerge in the group's struggles against Extremis and ominous government officials threaten to tear them away from one another.

" _Barney? Are you awake?"_

_Clint was scared. As any seven year-old would be if all you could hear were the sounds of your parents screaming at one another right below your bedroom._

_This night was no different than any of the others in Clint's short span of memory. His parents began fighting at the drop of the faucet, and it always escalated into shouting matches that all of Iowa could hear. He hoped and prayed that his father wouldn't make his way upstairs to take out any remaining frustrations on he and his brother like he usually did._

_That happened far too often._

_"Yeah. I hear them too."_

_"Can I stay in here?"_

_"Sure."_

_The small boy slid underneath the covers, his head resting by his brothers feet._

_"I'm gonna get outta here one day, bud. I can't take all this fighting anymore."_

_"Will you take me with you?"_

_"Course I will."_

_........_

_The next morning when he woke, he finds a note on the side table, and Barney is just...... gone. At the time, he was naive enough to believe that the runaway boy would return for him._

 

 

* * *

 

 

On the ride over to talk to Bruce,  
all Clint can think about is his wife. Every promise he made that he would do his best to make this place a different Waverly than the one he was raised in. Promising her that their child would be the happiest and safest child on the planet. Their child would have two loving parents, and a slew of protective aunts and uncles to watch over them.

When did that dream slip away? When did the town he was supposed to be protecting become a nightmare worse than anything he ever imagined as a child? Why does he consistently prove his father right? That he is no good. Can't do any good for anyone.

All he knows is that he has to get to Tasha's office as quickly as possible. He needs to see her, and hold her, and kiss her. That woman and the child she is carrying are Clint's whole world. Everything that is good and right in his life. He knows that he has to protect them. He has to protect his friends. Has to protect what portion of this town is still sane.

 

* * *

 

 

Thor can't seem to turn away from the body in the holding cell.

He had volunteered to stay at the station and wait for Steve to arrive with Sitwell, while everyone else went to meet with Natasha and Bruce.

His entire body shutters at the blood splatter on the wall, running down in a perfect trail to meet with the lifeless man on the cell floor.

Scott Lang was a good man. A very good man. He had completely turned his life around, and was so very, very happy with Hope and Cassie.

He feels another shutter run through his entire body remembering the image of the man's house engulfed in flames. Knowing Hope was trapped in there. Knowing there was nothing he could do.

He finally turns his eyes away from the lifeless man to look at the drawer of his desk containing the magazine cut-outs of different engagement rings that Maria had helped him pick out.

Maybe wedding fever was contagious, because not even a full year after Clint and Natasha's wedding, Steve proposed to Bucky, and only a week later, Thor called Maria up in the middle of the night telling her that he wanted to go shopping for engagement rings.

The chain of thoughts have him pulling out his phone and calling Jane in an instant.

"This is Jane Foster. I can't make it to the phone right now. Please leave me a message and I will call you back as soon as I become available. Thank you."

Thor knows that he can't say too much without breeding panic, so he just goes with his instincts.

"Jane, I know a lot of weird shit is happening right now, so I need you to know that I am going to keep you safe. You are the most important thing in this world to me. I love you. So much."

 

* * *

 

 

"Bucky. Doll, talk to me."

...........

_"Steve! It's pouring down rain, and you want to stop and enjoy the scenery!?"_

_Steve couldn't help the joyous laughter at the sight of Bucky soaked from head to toe standing right in front of him, wind blowing his long hair across his face. He was wearing a bright smile all the same._

_He doesn't think he can contain the love he has for his best friend in his body._

_So he pulls him in close and kisses him breathless._

_The day had not gone to plan at all. Steve had asked Sam if he could drive out to his family's hunting cabin. He and Bucky were to have lunch together by the lake, then take a hike around the property. He was going to keep the ring hidden until the end of the day, and then when they were watching the sunset from the truck bed out in the massive fields behind the lake, he would ask Bucky the question that had been on his lips since Natasha and Clint's wedding a few months earlier._

_It was hardly two in the afternoon, when they get poured on while hiking in the small patch of woods across the road from the cabin._

_When Steve pulls away from Bucky's lips, he decides that now is strangely the perfect time to drop to one knee. The two of them have done everything unconventional from the very first time they met at the age of twelve, anyway._

_Steve can't possibly hold back the happy tears when he hears,_

_"Of course I'll marry you, punk."_

...........

Bucky finds that he has to think of happy memories to drive away the sight of Selvig hanging from the wall, and Sitwell's murderous rampage.

"I need you to keep talking to me, sugar. How bad are your injuries?"

Steve has one hand on the steering wheel. The other is pressed to Bucky's abdomen, underneath both of his fiancé's hands, trying to slow the bleeding.

Between his worried glances at Bucky, and trying to hold back the pool of red, it is a miracle that he hasn't ran the car off the road by now.

All Steve can see racing through his mind is the image of Sitwell standing above Bucky, ready to kill him.

He's startled back into the moment when Bucky clears his throat next to him.

"Neither puncture wound is too deep. Nat will probably give me a local anesthetic and sew me up."

He grabs tight to Steve's hand then, the man's warmth and presence willing away his nerves.

His voice is hardly a whisper when he turns to speak to Steve again.

"He was going to kill me, Stevie."

Steve just leans over and places a soft kiss on Bucky's cheek before turning his attention back to the road.

"I wouldn't have let it happen. Buck, I'll never let anything happen to you, okay? You're always gonna be safe with me."

Bucky takes a few steadying breaths before closing his eyes and nodding in understanding.

Steve calms immeasurably when he sees a small smile tug at his fiancé's lips.

"Things were so much easier when I was the one swooping in and saving you."

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Tasha?"

Yes, it's been a rough few days. Can Nat really be blamed if she just breaks down in Clint's arms as soon as he steps through the door?

"I'm okay. This is just all a lot to process."

Rhodes steps forward as soon as she untangles from her husband to place a soft hand on her shoulder. He's a bit better at making comforting gestures than Bruce had been just a few moments before.

"We're going to get a handle on all of this ma'am. Dr. Banner is the best in his field, and hopefully combining his intelligence with the likes of yours and Mr. Barnes' we can find a solution."

Nat finds it a bit unnerving that these men came out of nowhere and know so much about seemingly all of her friends.

Clint, as always, can just tell that she is overwhelmed, and takes her hand in his own.

"Bucky was the first one to make the correlation to the rhabdoviridae. It explains why the infected are experiencing the cerebral hemorrhaging and deterioration."

She finds a sudden fire brewing in her, remembering Hope's face as she drove away the day before. These men are here under the pretense of helping, only after two innocent people, two of her friends, have lost their lives.

"What the Hell were you thinking weaponizing something like this? Who could you possibly be protecting creating a strain like that!?"

Clint just squeezes her hand, and tries to calm her.

"Tasha, just stay calm."

"No. I won't. I sent a man out of here yesterday who was infected by their little experiment, and he murdered his wife! You can't just come down here and sweep this under the rug! They had a little girl! What are you going to tell her!? Sorry, sweetheart, but we couldn't save everyone."

Rhodes actually shies away from her at that point, sensing a shift in the air. It's easy to forget that these are people who are seeing those they've worked and lived with for years just, losing their minds.

It's why he knew he had to be placed on this assignment. Tony was always an arrogant ass, but he is a very good man, and he and Pepper call this place home. He can't imagine what this is doing to them. Seeing chaos just descending on their town.

"We've made mistakes. I'm here to try and help atone for them. I can't do it without help from all of you, though."

The weight of those words echoes in the small room, everyone seeming to fully grasp the severity of what they are about to face. Clint pulls Natasha into his side, while Rhodes and Bruce try to look everywhere else but at the two.

Tony suddenly jumps from his seat and stares out the window. He whips around to face the group, and everyone tenses at the expression on his face, before he throws open the doors to the clinic, and reveals Steve clutching onto Bucky, who is still losing blood.

He reaches out to help Steve guide Bucky across the floor, and sit him on an examination table. Steve is eyeing the two new faces wearily as Tony places a firm hand on Bucky's shoulder.

"What the Hell happened to you?"

Natasha is already throwing on gloves and digging through cupboards before Bucky is even fully seated.

Steve finally turns away from the two men to answer Tony.

"You should see the other guy."

Bucky makes an absolutely horrified face at his fiancé, before using what strength he does have to punch him in the arm.

"Steve. That is so inappropriate."

Natasha pushes everyone out of the way to pull Bucky's shirt off of his body.

"Steve, reach into that cupboard behind you and hand me the bottle of Lidocaine. Tony, if you could grab me an ice pack, I can start to numb these wounds."

She is furiously at work, already wiping away the blood from his shoulder, making sure to use a dry cloth, not daring use the water from the tap. Then realizing the wound is not all that deep, she wraps it up with gauze.

"You're definitely going to need a suture for the stomach. What happened, люблю?"

He smiles at the nickname. At first he hated it, but finally considered it a fair trade off for him being the only one allowed to call her Natalia. The smile doesn't last very long however, when he remembers exactly how he received the wounds. Absentmindedly, he reaches to his left, and thankfully Steve understands. The man steps forward and grabs a hold of his hand, before clearing his throat and addressing the room.

"When I went over to the funeral home, I found Sitwell standing over him with a bloody scalpel, preparing to stab him to death. So I put a bullet in his chest."

Steve hates that Bucky has the same vacant expression as before. It's not like the way Selvig looked at Clint, or how Sitwell looked standing over him. There is nothing but fear in his fiancé's eyes. After all that Bucky has done for him, Steve abhors that he can't make the love of his life feel like he's protected from things like this.

"Jesus."

It's Clint's turn to be ghost white, reaching out in front of him to hold onto the countertop and steady himself.

"This Extremis has now killed four people. You still convinced that we can put a cap on the situation, Colonel?"

There is a hostility in Clint's quiet statement that absolutely unnerves everyone in the room.

"What the Hell is Extremis?"

Bucky finally finds his voice to ask the question to Rhodes, who seems to plan each word before he speaks them.

"It's a rhabdoviridae-based biological weapon created by the Air Force to be a fail-safe. An aircraft carrying the....."

"An aircraft carrying the strain crashed into the town's water supply. We've heard this story 100 times already, and still no one has given any type of solution."

Clint is now standing in front of the Colonel, seemingly challenging him to say one wrong thing. Give him one more reason to completely lose his mind with anger. He's got four damn bodies to answer for, and one of his best friends is now bleeding out right in front of him thanks in part to this disease. Needless to say, he is just plain pissed off.

"If you all weren't so invested in fighting me, maybe we could come to an agreement for course of action."

Bucky finally has a fire in his eyes again, and Steve is happy to see that his Bucky and his dominant personality are coming to the forefront of all the horrors that the day has wrought.

"Says the bastard who sneaks into town after the fact to try and save face for the government. Do you know what rabies does to people? It drives them mad. They completely lose their minds. They do shit like tie you down to a table and try and cut you open. It's not something that we can control."

Bruce steps forward, and stares Bucky down. That is, until Steve gives him a look that makes him back about ten feet away.

"Mr . Barnes, I think you're forgetting the fact that a rabies vaccine does exist."

Nat lets out a dry laugh from where she has started to prep Bucky for the stitches.

"Vaccines only work as a preemptive action, Doctor. We also already discussed the fact that you can't use an antivirus on a God damn laboratory experiment."

Tony steps into the center of the room before anyone has a chance to start throwing punches.

"Stop fighting! All of you! This is a scary situation obviously, but Rhodey didn't manufacture that strain. The only reason he's here is to try and help us. We're all very intelligent, capable people. If we put our heads together, I'm sure that we can come up with a solution."

The tension in the room seems to diffuse almost immediately after Tony finishes speaking. Everyone begins to tend to their own business.

Natasha starts to apply the stitches to Bucky's stomach, while Steve offers to drive back to their home and grab a change of clothes for him. Clint steps away from the group to send calls to Thor, Maria, and Sam.

Rhodes and Bruce find their way over to Tony, and the man looks to be absolutely drained from the stress of the day.

"This all is certainly going to hinder my campaign next year."

Rhodey just pats him on the arm, then leads him over to Natasha and Bucky.

"I owe you both an apology. I can't even imagine how harrowing all this must be. I'd like to start with a clean slate. Tony tells me that you're both incredibly intelligent. We need to get ahead of this thing. I still think our best bet is to gather everyone at the school, and quarantine those infected. From there, we can try and find a way to reverse the effects of the virus."

Bucky nods in agreement, then looks up at Rhodey, ready to try and work with the man to help this town that he calls home.

"How long is the incubation period?"

"After forty-eight hours, you're either dead, or you don't have it."

Natasha doesn't look up from her work, but adds her thoughts all the same.

"I don't think it's a coincidence that Sitwell, Selvig, and Scott are the three closest houses to Odin's Mire. They'd have been exposed to the strain first."

She places a soft hand on Bucky's cheek then, smirking down at her friend.

"All finished. I told you that a private water supply would pay off in the end."

And, damn. He hadn't even thought about it, but how incredibly lucky it is indeed. Both Clint and Nat's, and his and Steve's homes had a borehole for a singular water supply, meaning that they would have no way of coming into contact with the disease. That is, unless....

"It's still just waterborne? No possible way of being transmitted through blood? I've now been in close contact with two infected individuals."

Bruce clears his throat then, the rest almost forgetting the man had been standing there the whole time.

"I can say with certainty that you'll be fine. All of my scans on this virus have shown that it only spreads in water, not blood. When the government created it, they meant for it to be released into a major water supply, therefore causing mass infection as quickly as possible."

Rhodes just clenches his eyes shut, and shakes his head. He's proud of his service, and wouldn't change a thing about his line of work, but things like this make him really wonder what horrors could possibly constitute a design of this caliber.

"Just another of a very long list of mistakes that this country has made recently."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sam is growing very antsy. He and Maria are making the drive back into town after her stay at St. Luke's Hospital in Cedar Rapids. Upon examination the night before, paramedics discovered that she had a minor concussion, and Sam had drove her to the hospital, and stayed with her all night.

She hasn't said anything since they had gotten in the car, just sitting in her seat and staring out her window, lost in thought.

He reaches over and shuts off the radio, then searches his mind for the right words to say.

"It wasn't your fault, Hill."

"Don't even start with that shit."

"Maria....."

"No. I was right there. I was right fucking there and I let him catch me off guard. Now Hope is dead."

He wants to press further, but knows that Maria will just grow more dismissive if he pushes the issue too far, so he stays quiet.

They sit in silence for what feels like another eternity, before she turns and speaks to him in a very small voice.

"Thank you for staying with me last night."

It's not much, but it's a start. Eventually he'll have her talking it all out.

Before he has a chance to respond, he comes over a hill, and sitting on the other side is a road block. A man in military uniform is seemingly standing guard at the makeshift gate, a fleet of Humvees lining the road on the other side.

He pulls up to the man, then rolls down his window.

"Afternoon. This road open to local traffic?"

"I'm afraid not, sir. I have strict orders to re-route everyone to the truck depot on State Route 90. This whole area is under quarantine."

That has both deputies attention in an instant.

Maria nudges Sam out of the way and leans over him to address the man.

"Quarantine for what? Was there a chemical spill? We're both on the Waverly police force, something like that is top priority for us."

"I don't know any details, Ma'am. Just know my orders."

She makes to argue, but Sam just raises his hand and cuts her off.

"Not a problem. We'll head out that way. Thank you."

As he turns the car around and drives off in the direction they just came, he can just feel Maria's frustrated eyes on him.

"Call Clint. Maybe he'll tell us what the Hell that was all about."

She sighs frustratedly, but does as he asks regardless.

"I'm not getting a signal."

Sam reaches down into the console and fishes out his cell, then passes it to his friend.

"Try mine."

She repeats the same process from seconds before, once again to no avail.

"Still nothing."

It's hard to place, but Sam feels a panic rising inside of himself. He leans forward to turn the radio back on, and sure enough, it's not a welcome sound.

"All local stations are down until further notice. KCRG apologizes for any inconvenience."

That's all he has to hear before he's shutting the thing off once again.

"You know what, Hill? Waverly's in trouble."

"Why?"

"Because they don't want us to know what's going on past that barricade."

 

 

* * *

 

 

It's been a rough few days for Jane. After now two bodies in the morgue, the students were starting to become unnerved. For a community as small and close-knit as Waverly, things like this have a way of shaking everyone to their core.

All day today had been meetings with psychologists, and a rally in the auditorium for a fundraiser for Cassie's college fund.

When she pulls her phone from her purse, she finds a voicemail from Thor, and opens it right away.

_"Jane, I know a lot of weird shit is happening right now, so I need you to know that I am going to keep you safe. You are the most important thing in this world to me. I love you. So much."_

The man sometimes makes her want to rip every hair from her head, but he always makes up for it in the smallest of ways. Be it like now, knowing exactly what to say, or just the right touch to will her nerves away, he is the best of her life.

All of a sudden, the power in the building is cut out, and the dim red pools of light filling the empty halls let her know that the back-up generator kicked on.

Add this to the list of reasons why she will be requesting an extended vacation at the end of the year.

She begins to make her way to the stairwell, headed to the main power board located in a supply closet on the third floor.

If at all possible, it's even darker on this floor. The only light coming from the large window on the opposite end of the corridor.

Also down there is the silhouette of a man.

Closer inspection reveals Happy staring back at her, expression completely dead.

And, damn. Jane's seen that look before. Right before Clint put a bullet in Erik Selvig.

Before she can even blink, the man is charging at her, looking murderous.

So she runs. Turns away, and bolts as quickly as her feet will carry her, careful not to lose her footing on the steps.

As soon as she hits the floor on the ground level, she is full on sprinting toward the exit doors. She can hear Happy close behind, screaming incoherently.

As she rounds the corner to the small hall leading to the doors, she's surprised to see an older man in an army uniform standing at the entrance to the building.

As soon as the guy spots Happy behind her, she has but a few heartbeats to drop to the floor, before the guy is placing a bullet square between his eyes.

She doesn't dare look back as she nearly crawls across the floor toward the man.

He has a name on his uniform, Ross.

"Are you alright?"

She nods, unable to formulate any words.

He reaches down for a radio hanging off his pocket.

"Rumlow, initiate containment protocol."

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Any particular reason you grabbed the tightest pair of jeans I own, Stevie?"

And there's that blush that Bucky adores.

"You look good in these, Buck."

Clint makes a noise of agreement to which Nat swats him in the back of the head.

Once he is sorted and clothed, the four make their way back over to Rhodes, Tony, and Bruce.

"Dr. Banner, did you and your team ever come close to a cure?"

At Nat's words, the man's face falls. She figures that more than answers her question.

"Unfortunately not. This strain quite literally hi-jacks major brain functions. Whoever the infected were before the virus is wiped away."

The room is eerily silent after that, hope draining with each passing second.

The doors to the clinic are suddenly thrown open, and two men in swat gear come storming over the threshold, guns drawn.

"This town is now under Marshal Law. We need everyone to calmly file out of the building to the shuttle which will transfer you to the quarantine zone."

Rhodes raises his hands in a placating gesture as he steps forward.

"Whose orders? I was sent here directly by Representative Pierce himself along with General Thaddeus Ross."

One of the two steps dangerously close to Rhodes, a menacing smile sitting on his lips.

"Well, Ross is sitting at the highschool right now if you'd like to address the issue at its source."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"All available personnel clearance level eight to the situation room. Containment Protocol enacted."

And Sharon's day just went from a slew of mindless reports and bland coffee, to completely full throttle insanity in less than ten seconds.

Everyone is buzzing with confusion, trying to squeeze any information out of those among them who may have access to it.

As she enters the small room, only herself, Director Fury with the Homeland Division, Representative Pierce, and surprisingly Iowa's Senator Stern are present.

"Am I the only one who heard the call?"

Pierce makes his way over to her, and places a soft hand on her shoulder as he leads her to sit at the table with the rest of the group.

"You are the only level eight not already on location for this excursion, dear."

As she takes her seat, she reaches toward the center of the table and grabs the manila file labeled, "Project: Extremis"

Her heart drops into her stomach when she reads Waverly, Iowa listed as the contamination area. That would explain why Stern is there.

The thing is, she used to spend summers out in Waverly, visiting one of her favorite non-relatives whom she endearingly called Uncle Howard. Her Aunt Peggy was closer to very few other people, and she absolutely adored, 'precious little Tony'.

Sharon always thought he was kind of an asshole.

"What the Hell happened?"

Fury doesn't say a word. Even with just the one eye visible, Sharon can tell that Pierce would be flat on the floor if looks could kill.

The man looks to the group of people slowly before finding his words.

"Project Extremis was being overseen by myself and General Ross. It was created to be a fail-safe in situations where our armed forces weren't enough to neutralize threats. The strain was a modified version of the rabies virus, and a cargo craft carrying the virus to be incinerated was lost en route three days ago. Yesterday, an e-mail was sent to a Professor Helen Cho in Cedar Rapids. Waverly's medical examiner, James Barnes had noticed a trace of rhabdoviridae while running tests on a saliva sample. I sent Ross, Colonel James Rhodes, and both Rumlow and Rollins to ascertain the threat. See if it was truly our virus that Mr. Barnes had encountered. After examining another infected individual, Ross is sure that we've found the missing plane."

Sharon places the folder back on the table and grabs her head in both hands. Pierce's words still ricocheting inside her skull.

"What does this Extremis do, exactly?"

She knows before she even finishes asking the question that she doesn't particularly want to hear the answer.

Fury jumps in before Pierce has a chance to speak.

"Allow me, Representative. You'll just do more of that sugar-coating bullshit. It's a pawn of the rabies virus, Ms. Carter. Once infected, the individual starts to deteriorate mentally at alarming rates until they eventually die less than two days later. This particular strain turns the infected into mindless murderers. Your boss wanted a killing machine, and unfortunately for this town, he got one."

She feels absolutely sick as she sends a prayer to her Aunt Peggy to watch over 'precious little Tony'.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Madness. Absolute madness.

Mothers are separated from their children, wives from husbands, brothers from sisters.

The school is a labyrinth of sealed off corridors and holding chambers, each corner leading to yet another mass of arteries extending around the entire perimeter of the complex.

Most men here are dressed in Hazmat suits, and are parading the hoards of terrified people through this Hell.

Clint holds tight to Natasha as they are lead through the crowds, almost anchoring himself in her presence. Behind them, Steve is holding Bucky in identical fashion, careful however not to put any pressure on his fiancé's wounds. Rhodes, Tony, and Bruce are also close behind, looking just as disturbed as anyone else on the premises.

"Tasha, what are they doing?"

He's looking toward two men up ahead, stopping everyone before they pass.

"They're checking for fevers. I assume to try and isolate those already infected."

"Clint? Clint!"

The group turn to see Thor being dragged away down one of the chambers, seemingly leading to the football field.

"Find Jane! They won't tell me where she is. Please find her!"

"What are you doing to him? Where are they taking him?"

Clint's questions don't even seem to register to the man escorting them through the maze. He brings them up to the two he mentioned earlier, and that's when all Hell breaks loose.

He is deemed all clear and pushed along out of the way, but only a moment later, both men are forcibly pulling Natasha away from him, her temperature registering high enough to elicit panic in them both.

"Wait. WAIT! She's pregnant, that's what the fever is!"

"CLINT!"

The scene becomes a massive struggle then, Nat fighting against the men taking her away, Clint fighting to pull the two away from his wife, and Steve trying to keep Clint from getting himself shot.

"SIR, STEP BACK."

"FUCK THAT!"

"Clint, calm down!"

"Steve help me, not them! Be careful with her, she's carrying a child!"

They're all stunned a moment later when one of the men knocks Clint out cold with his rifle's shoulder stock.

As Steve helplessly watches Nat being carried away, he blindly begins reaching for his fiancé.

And then his heart nearly stops beating in his chest.

"Bucky? Bucky!?"

He's spinning around, searching the surrounding crowds frantically for his fiancé, who just vanished into thin air.

He bounds across the floor in an instant, taking a hold of Tony and forcing him to look in his eyes.

"Where did they take him?"

"Who?"

"Bucky! Where is he?"

Nothing.

He's just....

Gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're going full throttle now! Not too many more chapters after this, but the rest will surely make you hate me, so enjoy the happiness while you can! And as always, comments and kudos are very much appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is split apart, and just trying to survive. Clint and his deputies must race to try and save their loved ones before it's too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had plans of posting this update sooner, but considered the nature of this fic made it inappropriate to post in light of the recents attacks in Paris, Beirut, and Baghdad. All I have to say on the matter is that these attacks are horrific and unprecedented, but the true light of humanity always shines through in times like this, it's just up to us to seek it out. My heartfelt condolences go out to everyone in the world who are right now reeling from this terror. Love will prevail. Thank you all so much for your continued support with this work!!!

_3:02 a.m._

_Clint's surprised to find himself alone in bed this late at night, Nat's absence leaving him feeling cold and hollow._

_He pulls himself out from underneath the covers, and drags himself out of the bedroom to try and find his wife._

_He has to stop for a moment at the top landing of the stairwell. Everything is so silent. Most memories he has of the home are of screaming and fighting and pain and tears._

_Natasha has put her stamp on every inch of the home, and Clint absolutely loves it. Where before there were cigarette smoke stained walls and old, scuffed floors, now there's frames holding many, many happy memories with his wife and his friends._

_It all almost makes him forget the horrors that he lived through as a boy._

_He finds Natasha sitting on the front porch swing, nursing a cup of coffee._

_"Your gonna catch your death out here, darling, and if the cold doesn't kill you, the Devil's nectar in your hands will."_

_She gives him a small smile from behind the mug, before sliding over just enough that he can take a seat beside her, and wrap his arms around her._

_"At least that's what you always tell me."_

_Their heartbeats seem to instantaneously sync, causing a warm smile to spread across Clint's face. He doesn't know what in the world he did to deserve someone so special, but he does know that he is forever going to make her the happiest woman on the planet._

_"Well I don't have the aptitude for stress that you do. Half of what you pour ends up on the floor anyway."_

_He just pulls her closer and kisses the top of her head, knowing that she is unarguably correct in her assessments._

_They stay like that for a while. Just soaking in each other's company, enjoying the companionable silence between them._

_"I'm pregnant."_

_She was whispering, but Clint is pretty damn sure that he heard her right._

_"Say that again, please."_

_She raises from the swing, takes a few deep breaths, and then turns to face him, sporting a watery smile._

_"I'm pregnant_."

_He's got her off the floor, spinning in his arms in seconds._

 

* * *

 

 

As Clint starts to regain consciousness, it's as if he's being held under water, fighting and fighting to reach the surface.

The first thing he notices is that he's moving. Though he's lying on his back, he can tell that it's in some form of vehicle, and there are at least twenty other people in the thing with him.

As brakes screech to a halt, everyone around him starts to file out, and he eventually finds enough strength to lift himself up and follow the rest.

This scene is almost identical to the one at the highschool. People are everywhere; confused, angry, terrified.

He recognizes the truck depot immediately. He's about a mile and a half out of Waverly's jurisdiction, and that's when everything registers.

Nat is still back there. They think she's infected.

A chill rattles his entire body remembering how Rhodes hadn't hesitated to place a bullet between Scott's eyes once he found out he had been exposed.

"Sheriff?"

He turns to find Lance Hunter standing right behind him, looking completely lost and distant.

"They've been bringing people in shuttles full for a while. It's good to see you made it out."

Clint surveys the crowds, then turns back to the man.

"Where's Bobbi?"

Clint can just about gather what Hunter's answer will be before he even opens his mouth to speak, if his expression is anything to go by.

"They took her. I didn't even have time to register what was happening before they were dragging her away."

The sheriff takes notice of a young boy running into the welcoming arms of his mother. Tears are replaced with joyous laughs and kisses, and only one thing keeps running through his mind, over and over and over.

Natasha.

"I've gotta get back in there."

Lance grabs a hold of his arm then, forcing the sheriff to break his unwavering determination to find a way back into the quarantine zone, to turn and see the man wearing such a look that tells Clint that he's seen horrors tonight that he can't even begin to fathom.

"I wouldn't. This seems like our only chance for salvation here, Clint."

Clint mulls over Hunter's words for a few moments, trying to fathom how he can stand there and say something so absurd.

And to think, he's the one Bobbi dumped him for when they were 21.

"I'm going."

"Sheriff..."

"Look, don't ask me why I can't leave behind my wife, and I won't ask you why you can."

He leaves Lance behind wearing a guilty frown as he searches for any type of transportation back into town.

He thinks he can maybe try and hide out in the back of a cargo hatch, but he would have to make a very narrow escape, and he wouldn't be any help to Natasha if he gets shot.

"Chief!"

He shoots his head up to see Maria and Sam crowding around Steve, who looks like complete shit.

"Steve, what the fuck happened?"

The man keeps his gaze trained on the ground, a steely determination rooted in his features.

"They took Bucky. I freaked out, so they tased me."

Clint's had enough. These men and their supervisors are the reason all this chaos is happening, and they have the sheer audacity to do this shit to him and his wife and friends.

Fuck that.

Sam takes a firm hold of his shoulder and meets his expression with the same sheer fire in his eyes.

"Don't worry, Chief. We've got a plan. Every ten minutes, a different group of guys cycles through here in a Humvee, and switches out with another crew. There's a big ass field right on the other side of the depot, and it leads right out to 143, which we can take back into town. Because that old bridge is out, they didn't bother barricading it. As soon as the next crew does their exchange, we'll take the few moments that the vehicle sits unattended and snatch it."

They all sit in silence, preparing themselves for the madness that is about to ensue.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Sir, our supervisor would like to speak with you."

Before Bucky can register what is happening, a firm hand is being placed on his injured shoulder, cutting off his protests before they exit his mouth.

The guy must realize the pain Bucky's in because of his hold, because he presses into his shoulder even harder as he leads him away from everyone.

No one is even looking, Steve too preoccupied trying to keep Clint from getting himself killed. He decides that putting up a fight wouldn't be a very good idea, and let's the man, Rumlow, if his badge is anything to go by, lead him away.

As soon as they are a safe enough distance away that Bucky feels certain Rumlow won't take any aggression out on his fiancé and friends, he pulls himself loose from the bastard's grasp and then kicks him hard in the shin.

"You can escort me where I need to go without re-opening my wounds, asshole."

The thug makes to argue, but Bucky gives him a look that discourages him immediately.

They eventually enter one of the side wings of the school, and a minute later, Bucky is being deposited into a small classroom.

At the head of a long table is an older man in army uniform, looking over an expanse of paperwork.

"Bucky? Oh, thank God!"

He whips around just in time to be enveloped in Bobbi's arms.

"Bobbi! Are you alright?"

She pulls away from him to wipe at her eyes. He can't see any injuries on her, rather just looking emotionally taxed. Rightly so, he thinks, given the circumstances.

"I'm fine. Terrified, but that goes without saying."

The man rises from his spot at the foot of the table to move toward them, already extending a hand to be shaken.

"Mr. Barnes, I'm very sorry to be meeting under such circumstances, but it was your e-mail to Dr. Cho that clued us in to this contamination. You and Ms. Morse here seem to be our best chance at a solution to this mess."

He motions for them both to take a seat as he's talking, and then sits opposite them, opening the files he was just scanning over for them to leaf through.

"What about Dr. Banner? I thought he was supposed to be trying to find a cure."

Ross seems to intently avoid Bucky's gaze, and keeps his tone neutral, though both he and Bobbi can almost too easily pick up on a hint of hostility.

"My supervisor is no longer sure in Colonel Rhodes and Dr. Banner's ability to handle the situation efficiently, so I've been asked to work with the two of you to try and put an end to all this horror."

Bobbi shutters at the report laid out in front of her.

_Test Subject 19: Patient's mental capacity deteriorating at alarming rates. Cerebral hemorrhaging prevalent. Very violent tendencies. Ordered to keep attendants away from subject._

"Can I ask who you possibly tested this on without being court marshaled and stripped of your badge?"

Ross seems very good at avoiding eye contact when asked difficult questions, as he doesn't bother looking at Bobbi while giving his reply.

"That's not anything you should concern yourself with dear. What I need you both to help me do is ascertain a cure for this virus."

Bucky makes a show of closing the folder in front of him, before clearing his throat and making sure Ross is looking right at him.

"Have you considered the Milwaukee protocol?"

He just gives Bucky an indifferent look, but Bobbi seems to be a bit disturbed by the notion.

"I'm not familiar with such a thing, I'm afraid."

She continues to wear the same uncertain expression as she begins to explain.

"It involves the use of a medically induced coma as a means of helping the body build up an immunity to the virus while all major brain functions are stopped."

He actually seems to consider the option.

"It'd be difficult, but I could have the necessary supplies here in under two hours. We can keep the infected isolated until then, and then continue to use the school as a quarantine zone until we are sure they have fought off the infection."

He pulls out his phone and then sits it in the center of the table after pressing a number in his contacts.

"This is Agent Carter."

"Sharon, this is Ross. I have Mr. Barnes and Ms. Morse and I believe we may have a solution to this contamination. Is Pierce with you?"

"He's currently speaking with the President. I'll have him call you as soon as he becomes available."

"Thank you."

Bucky and Bobbi share an astounded look, the mention of the president's involvement shedding light onto the depth of what is quickly turning into the perfect script for a pretentious Indie horror film.

An eerie silence seems to settle in the room for a moment, before a blaring alarm is sounding off, and Ross is unholstering his gun in an instant.

"Both of you stay here. That signals a breach in the exterior. I'm going to go see what happened."

Once he's out the door, Bucky closes it tight before turning and taking Bobbi's hand.

"I hate this. I really hate this. I should be doing wedding planning right now."

She tries at an honest smile, but her nerves radiate through with it.

"Once this is all over, I'm throwing you a bridal shower. And by that I mean, it'll just be you, me, all the girls and beer."

His smile falls once he remembers what had happened to Nat just a few minutes before.

"They took Natalia. She registered a high fever. Clint tried to tell them it was because of the pregnancy, and they knocked him out cold. I'm not so sure these people are the saving grace they're trying to paint themselves as."

Bobbi just collapses back into her seat, silent tears once again falling from her eyes.

"Lance left. They escorted me to see Ross and gave him the option of staying with me or leaving in a shuttle, and he left."

Bucky's heart absolutely shatters then. He knew that the two had been having problems. He and Bobbi were both one another's shoulder to cry on. (More meaning, she would complain about Lance, and he would gush about Steve.) For Lance to just leave her behind however? It makes Bucky want to hunt him down and beat the shit out of him.

She gives an inquisitive glance out the door as she once again dries at her eyes.

"I smell smoke."

They very slowly open the door, Bucky keeping Bobbi behind him, and turn to stare down the expanse of hallway that Ross had left down moments before.

Sure enough, a small billow of smoke is emanating slowly at the other end.

"We need to move. Stay behind me."

Bobbi stays pressed to his back as he begins moving away from the smoke cloud, knowing that exit doors sit at the top of a stairwell around the corner at the end of the hallway.

He stops when he hears footsteps approaching.

As Ross rounds the corner, Bucky feels tremors run through his entire body at the ghostly pale expression the man is wearing.

He is paralyzed with fear when the man falls forward, a shattered graduated cylinder lodged in the back of his head.

Grant Ward is another man that Bucky was just never fond of. Kara is very much like Bobbi. Very sweet and kind, just unluckily ending up with an asshole.

He looks absolutely terrifying with a blood-soaked shirt and palms, smiling down at the number he just did on Ross.

He's charging at both of them an instant later.

Bucky's transported back to twelve years old, fighting off the huge guys his fiancé used to always seem to mess with.

As Ward is now right in front of them, Bucky very quickly throws a hard kick into his knee, and the man howls in pain. He throws back his head ever so slightly, and Bucky takes the opportunity to throw his open palm up and break the man's nose before hitting him in his vagus nerve just below his ear, rendering him unconscious.

Bobbi takes a moment to gather herself before, of all things, grabbing Bucky's shoulders and breathing out a small laugh.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

He grabs her hand and continues leading her down the corridor while letting himself laugh a little.

"When we were kids back in Brooklyn, Steve liked to pick fights with guys twice his size. I was the one who had to swoop in and save him. Then when he became a cop, he insisted that I take all his self-defense courses with him just in case he ever wasn't there to swoop in and save me."

"You guys are too fucking adorable for your own good."

They continue weaving their way through the dark hallways, and eventually make their way to the exit doors.

Bucky tries in vain to push them open, then finally turns back to Bobbi defeated.

"I was afraid this was gonna happen. We're quarantined. We're not supposed to be able to get out."

He grabs her hand and begins leading her away down another hallway, now in search of Rhodes. Hopefully he'll be able to explain what the plan now is.

And hopefully he can do so before any more bodies pile up.

 

* * *

 

 

Clint's heart is racing. Any second now, the Humvee transport will be arriving, and he and his deputies will have only minutes to pile in and try and make their way back into town.

He'll be damned if he allows these people to harm Tasha, or anyone else.

The three deputies surrounding him have identical expressions. They've been ripped from their peaceful existences and thrown headfirst into this nightmare. Each of them knowing what's at stake, but still standing by one another's sides unwaveringly; Clint knows that he couldn't have a better group of people to face these horrors with.

All of them have seen horrid things in their pasts.

Maria's father having her believe for most of her childhood that it was her fault that her mother had died during labor.

Sam watching helplessly as his best friend was killed in a firefight in Afghanistan.

Steve still dealing with PTSD from a warehouse bombing that took the lives of his former colleagues, whom he endearingly referred to as the "Howling Commandos" while he was still a rookie officer back in Brooklyn.

And Clint.

Well, Clint was pretty much raised in a war zone.

There is no way in Hell he's going to allow the shining dream he has for Tasha and himself to be torn apart by the events of the past few days.

He's a fighter.

His friends are fighters.

Because they all have each other to fight for.

"It's show time."

Clint feels a slight chill run down his spine at the fire in Steve's quiet statement, and with it, all four are slowly making there way to crouch down behind loading crates behind the building, as the transport arrives, and the uniformed men inside make their exit without fail.

They're on their feet and moving instantaneously, racing for the vehicle, and knowing that time is extremely limited.

Clint all but shoves Maria forward, signaling for Steve and Sam to stand watch.

"Do your thing kiddo."

She very pointedly rolls her eyes at him before jumping into the drivers seat, and busting open the steering column, before pulling at a series of wires that Clint can't begin to even fathom operate.

"This'll only take me a minute."

Everything is becoming far to real, far to fast. Clint turns away from Hill, just in case she doesn't handle the pressure of an audience well, instead taking estate beside Sam.

If these men are consistent, they should have five minutes before the next group emerges from the depot.

Clint can't help the nerves biting at him, knowing that they cannot get caught. Knowing that they can't lose the only means of making it back to Natasha and Bucky and Thor and everyone else still trapped within the pages of the real-life science fiction thriller that is their home town.

"Hill. They're coming."

She doesn't say a word, just continues working.

Steve steps forward, panic clearly etched into his features now.

"Hill! They're gonna be on us in about thirty seconds!"

Some higher power must intervene then, because the engine sputters to life, and Maria lays her foot on the gas to keep the thing from stalling.

"Get in. Now!"

The three men do immediately as they're told, cramming into the tight confines of the vehicle in a mass of flailing limbs and incoherent profanities.

They're all silenced as Maria slams on the gas and peels out of the cement lot, and continues accelerating through the open expanse of field behind the building.

The sound of distant shouts can faintly be heard, and just as Steve is about to turn to look back to the soldiers, a gunshot ricochets off of the side of the vehicle.

All three men scream in unison, causing Maria to let out an almost completely unhinged, maniacal fit of laughter.

"This never happened in any of the ride-alongs chief!!!"

Another gunshot rings out, but the humvee is far enough from the group of men it was stolen from that the bullet fails to reach it.

Clint and his friends are suddenly very aware that there is no turning back.

Can't be.

They will get through this.

Together.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"They've broken through the fourth line of defense! We have orders to shoot on sight."

The poor sap is to busy giving orders to his retreating comrade to notice Thor sneaking up behind him, and then he's out cold on the pavement.

One moment, he's being led with a group of others to a shuttle meant to carry them out of the quarantine zone; the next, he's dodging bullets and running for his life from a group of infected that had somehow breached the security.

The bastards had actually taken down a number of the uniformed men and set fire to the school library, making a perfect distraction for the rest of the detained to make an escape.

Thor has a tether keeping him searching here, however.

Jane.

He has no idea whether or not she's even here. It's completely possible that she was shuttled out of the school grounds already.

He remembers seeing what looked to be a nerve center in the main entrance hall of the school when he first arrived, and figures that's his best chance of finding out where she is.

He grabs the walkie and pistol off of the guy he just knocked unconscious, hoping to be able to hear orders coming over the device, enabling him to stay hidden from any patrols or infected.

Slowly, he makes sure to stay hidden in the shadows as he moves between buses parked alongside the building, en route to a side entrance that will lead him toward his destination.

If he actually survives this, he might just drop down onto one knee and propose to Jane right then and there.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sharon cannot remember a more agonizing scenario in her nearly ten years with the CIA.

It'd been nearly two hours since Ross had ordered the containment protocol, and since then, none of the four level eights that Pierce has in place in Waverly have made contact.

The feeling in the situation room is a heavy one.

Fury is just sitting unwaveringly still, reading over the Extremis files, and not speaking to anyone in the room.

Pierce has been on the phone with President Ellis for the past hour, assuring him that the situation is completely under control.

Stern hasn't stopped pacing since the order was given, and it's starting to really eat at Sharon's patience.

A small sliver of paper is pushed toward her then, Fury giving her an inconspicuous look, and the other two men too enticed in their own personal state of mind to notice the discreet gesture.

As slowly as possible, she unfolds the paper, and pulls a file folder over to hide it.

_"We've had eyes on this project from the beginning. Pierce lied about giving orders for the incineration. I believe the contamination was intentional. A test run to see the magnitude of the strain."_

All of her thoughts come to a halt, and she feels the air knocked out of her.

There had been whispers about Pierce for months. How he had been making questionable calls and brash orders were being handed down more and more often under his guidance.

She doesn't want to believe that the man would pull a stunt like this, however.

Acts like this are performed by the men that she and her peers are trained to take down, not her superior officer.

"I'm going to grab some coffee, can I get anyone else anything?"

Pierce just waves dismissively, and Stern gives a simple negative response.

Fury is giving her the same expression as before, knowing that she has a greater plan at play.

She gives a curt nod to the man before exiting the room, and making her way to Pierce's office.

If the man is a guilty party in all this madness, if he's directly responsible?

Well, Sharon is going to get answers.

 

* * *

 

 

The faint sounds of gunfire and inordinate shouts combined with the unrelenting alarm and thick smoke billowing from the windows on the opposite side of the building are enough to make Rhodey chill to his core.

He's holed up inside a classroom with Bruce, Tony, and Pepper, who had joined up with the group as soon as they arrived at the school.

Ross hasn't radioed to anyone in almost ten minutes, and Rumlow and Rollins are both off somewhere shouting orders at the many masses of soldiers under their watch to keep the infected contained.

When he hears the orders to shoot on sight, he truly understands the gravity of the situation.

"We need to move."

Everyone hesitantly begins to move out of the room and into the empty hallway, deciding unspoken to move in the opposite direction of the smoke.

"Our best bet is gonna be to get out to the depot that they've been herding everyone else to. We can put a call through to D.C. and let them know what's going on."

A gunshot rings out in the empty corridor, and for what feels like an eternity, everyone seems frozen in place.

Then, in a horrifying instant, Bruce falls to the floor, completely lifeless.

"Not gonna happen, Colonel."

Rumlow is looking completely worse for wear, blood-stained and caked in grime and soot.

Pepper falls to her knees next to Bruce, but any hope she had of resuscitation falls away when she realizes he doesn't have a pulse.

Rhodes steps forward so that he is standing in front of both Tony and Pepper, and raises his hands in front of him.

"What the fuck are you doing Brock? Bruce wasn't infected."

"My kill orders didn't specify infected, Jim. If I feel threatened, I can shoot."

He gives them a sick grin before stepping even closer.

"Pierce doesn't think it's a good idea to have you running around here interfering anymore, Colonel. He says you're too close to the situation. I told him I'd solve that problem the best way I know how."

Another shot rings out, and Rhodes is hesitant to open his eyes.

When he hears Tony and Pepper both still alive and well behind him, he cracks an eye open to see Brock lying in a pool of blood, and Thor standing with a gun drawn.

"I felt threatened."

He moves toward the group, but stops when he sees Bruce lying lifeless on the cold tile.

"Fucking Hell."

 

* * *

 

 

Natasha can't shake the sense of dread that has settled in her core at how eerily quiet and empty the school has become.

It took all of thirty seconds after the alarm had been sounded for everything to descend into madness; Every one of the grotesque figures that had been inspecting those trapped in her ward simply abandoning them to their own defenses.

Completely restrained to the bed she's lying on, Nat finally builds up enough strength to lift her head just enough to survey her surroundings.

"Jane!!!"

The woman whips her head back to peer at her friend, relieved tears immediately forming in her eyes.

"Nat! Oh my God! Are you alright?"

She laughs in spite of herself, lifting her hands in a shrugging gesture.

"I was eventually going to end up on bed rest anyway."

Nat allows her head to loll back onto the pillow beneath it, feeling defeated.

"What are you in for?"

Jane tries at a laugh, but it mostly just dies on her lips.

"It's been a stressful few days, and I always run a fever when I'm on my period."

Nat wants to reach out and wrap her friend in a hug.

That sucks.

"I'm so sorry."

Both of them fall deathly silent as the sound of footsteps approaching echo in the small room they're trapped in.

Kara rounds the corner, a sickly sweet smile playing on her lips. She stands impossibly still, just observing everyone in the room. Slowly, she pulls a hand gun from its place in a makeshift holster and makes her way down the center of the room, having a perfect view of all those confined in this Hell.

Then, she pulls the trigger.

Nat just whimpers as she looks to see the victim of the bullet, Chester Phillips, as the life drains from his eyes.

Kara seems overjoyed at the dying man in front of her, her eyes holding an almost brightness at his now blood soaked sheets.

She pulls the firing pin, and once again raises the gun.

Another shot rings out in the small space, and this time it lands just beside Jane, hitting Obadiah Stane, whom Nat hadn't even noticed tied down in the room.

Just as before, it takes only seconds for the light to leave his eyes completely.

Natasha's vision becomes blurry then, tears starting to stream from her eyes.

Kara mirrors her haunting post-shot actions, this time going as far as placing a soft open palm on Stane's cheek, almost as a mother would do for her child.

Nat wants nothing more than to flee when the woman's eyes fall on her, and her smile becomes something much more sinister.

Her heart rate accelerates incrementally as Kara begins to approach her, looking much like a predator stalking it's prey.

The woman raises the gun, and Nat clenches her eyes shut, silently screaming out a final 'I love you' to her husband, not even knowing if he himself is still alive.

Instead of the loud blast she's expecting, she's met with a small metallic click, and opens her eyes to see Kara throw the pistol aside frustratedly.

Not deterred however, the woman grabs a pillow from a nearby bed before once again closing in on Natasha.

She vaguely registers Jane shouting, pleading for Kara to leave, to come back for her, to leave Nat alone, "She's carrying a child!"

Before she has a chance to even scream, Kara has the pillow above her, completely smothering her, and all she can do is try and fight against the restrains of the bed.

"STOP! KARA, STOP! COME OVER HERE! LEAVE HER ALONE!!"

Nat knows she should try and remain calm, preserve her breath, but panic sets in, and she feels absolutely helpless.

Utter helplessness.

She's struggling.

She's struggling......

She's........

From a few feet away, Jane watches in horror as Nat's body goes completely limp.

Kara just smiles down at her work, slowly pulling the pillow away from Natasha's face.

"You bitch. You sick fucking bitch."

Kara doesn't even acknowledge Jane's words, rather just continues smiling down at Natasha as she slowly moves her head in closer, placing a soft kiss on the woman's forehead.

Nat takes the opportunity to wake from her death act and grab a fist full of the woman's hair, pulling her head down hard to slam against the side rail of the bed she's tied onto.

Kara staggers away from her, the blow obviously causing injury, but unfortunately not as much as Nat had hoped, for the woman begins to make her way back over to her a second later.

She grabs a pair of medical scissors beside her and raises them with the intent of impaling Nat.

Bobbi knocks her unconscious with a fire hydrant before she has the chance, however.

"Natalia!"

Relief floods over Natasha as Bucky begins to free her from her restraints.

She's aware that's she is a complete sobbing mess, but can't find it in herself to care.

Bobbi strides across the room to untie Jane, as Bucky pulls Natasha into a tight embrace.

"You're alright. It's alright. We're gonna get out of here."

The four fall deathly still as the sound of more footsteps approaching grow louder and louder.

They hold their breaths for what feels like an eternity, before a single hand finally pulls back the plastic quarantine curtain, and a massive blond figure barrels into the room.

"Jane!"

Thor has her engulfed in a firm hold seconds later, the woman once again spilling tears, this time due in part to the sheer relief that she feels seeing him alive and unharmed.

"Took you long enough."

He sputters out a wet laugh as he wraps his arms ever tighter around her.

Rhodey, Tony, and Pepper pour in a moment later, and for a second, an air of serenity falls upon the group. One in which they can just stand in companionable silence, and forget about the horror unraveling around them.

"Where's Bruce?"

Nat finally finds her voice again, only to wish she hadn't a few seconds later when the downcast and broken expressions running across the other's faces answer her question for her.

_'This is Rollins. We have direct orders to use lethal force on any non-military personnel. Do not under any circumstances, allow any crazies to exit the quarantine zone.'_

Everyone's eyes fall on Rhodes' radio then, the tranquility of their reunion now shattered by the bleak reminder of the situation that they are faced with. The very men who put them in this Hell, who came with guns drawn under the guise of protection, hidden behind the excuse of searching amicably for an end, have now murdered countless amounts of those they swore to protect, including the one man who above all others, could have actually found a cure.

Rhodes gathers himself, and then looks to the group surrounding him, an intensity and fire in his eyes that stirs something in all of them.

"I'm still saying our best bet is to make our way out to the depot where they shuttled everyone off to earlier. We can contact D.C. Once we're there and let them know there are innocent people dying in droves out here."

With that, they slowly make their way out of the room, and once again venture into the war raging on around them.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Sharon makes a horrifying discovery, Clint and the deputies are en route to rescue their loved ones, and for those still trapped in Waverly, things start to get even more terrifying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a few things:  
> 1) This will probably have three more chapters at the most, and maybe an epilogue.  
> 2) I have tried relentlessly to not allow characters such as Rhodey, Sam, and Sharon to fall into the tropes of the "space-filling best friend" that happens a lot in fanfics.  
> 3) This chapter is setting up the mayhem in the final three, so not all will be tied up just yet.  
> 4) I really love all the comments, so please keep them coming!

The sun is just ending its descent in the evening sky as the group make their way off the school campus, searching for any form of transportation out of town.

Not surprisingly, Rollins issued a radio silence on Rhodey's end, meaning they no longer have the advantage of being a step ahead of the commanding officer and the men under his control.

They did however, stumble across the nerve center that Thor had mentioned, learning that Steve and Clint had been transported to the truck depot with the rest of those deemed 'clean'.

The Colonel feels as if he has been transported back to the front lines as he observes the massacre around him. Bodies are scattered unceremoniously everywhere, and smoke is still billowing out of the school and lingering over the campus, sending chills down his spine.

The ragtag group he has with him are in various states of confusion, fear, and exhaustion.

Thor has a vice-like hold on Jane, almost as if fearing she'd be taken once again if he dares let go. Tony and Pepper almost mirror the younger couple, though Pepper seems much more calm and collected, most likely for Jane's sake. Fatigue seems to be enveloping Natasha, as both Bucky and Bobbi are helping her to press forward and keep moving.

"Pep, you remember that time I got us kicked out of the Bellagio?"

The rest of the group turn as the woman barks out a laugh before covering her mouth and turning to her husband.

"Nudity is apparently quite the crime in Vegas."

Thor allows a laugh to ghost over his lips at the words the mayor directed to no one in particular.

Pepper reaches her hand over and pats his cheek.

"Nudity is quite the crime all across the country, dear."

Rhodey just smiles, thinking he'll have to use this new information to his advantage.

"That's nothing. Back in college, we made ourselves a pretty great deal. Every time I scored higher than him on an exam, I'd make him ask the TA out on a date. She declined every time."

Tony scoffs at his friend before turning back to the group and stealing their attention, not allowing his pride to be muddled.

"And he almost never scored higher than me on an exam, so he'd end up cooking all my meals and doing all my laundry."

A comfortable silence falls upon the group after that.

Thor takes the moment to gather all the wild ideas that had been bouncing around inside his head since finding Jane to form a somewhat cohesive single thought.

He pulls her incrementally closer into his side, then places a soft kiss in her hair. Once he's got her full attention, he begins speaking in a soft voice to his love.

"Jane. I promise, once this is all over, I'm going to marry you. I'm going to find the perfect ring, and plan the perfect proposal, and then we'll have your dream ceremony, and then maybe take a vacation, because I think one may be in order."

She doesn't say anything for a few moments, and Thor has half a mind to laugh it all off or apologize; that is, until she turns to him with a tearful smile, and as the rest continue on ahead of them, takes a moment to stop them for a second and place a soft kiss on his lips.

"Nothing would make me happier."

They stay enraptured in one another's arms; and for a moment forget about the horrors they are facing.

"There's an SUV!"

They all follow Rhodey's line of sight to a beat up old Honda, left abandoned on the empty stretch of pavement.

Rhodey runs up to the vehicle, but immediately deflates once he notices the boot on the car's front tire.

"This is the tenth car we've found with a boot. We're going to end up hiking all the way to Cedar Rapids."

"Maybe not."

Nat seems finally able to stand on her own strength, pushing herself to the front of the group to stand next to the Colonel.

"We've got an old '78 police issue Bronco under a tarp in our barn. I doubt they took the time to shackle it up."

"I thought that thing was on cinder blocks?"

A smile ghosts over Nat's lips as she turns to answer Thor, still holding Jane a few steps back from the rest of the gang.

"Clint wouldn't give up on it. He got it running a few weeks ago. Even on foot we can be there in less than ten minutes."

Finally having a viable option at their disposal, the group once again begin the harrowing journey out of the Hell around them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sharon's pulse is racing; her eyes darting between the few operatives busying themselves with work on the top floor. Pierce's office is at the end of an empty hallway, meaning she'll be able to sneak in and out unnoticed.

The possibilities of what she could find and the weight of Fury's implications are weighing on her mind as she makes the silent descent down the long corridor to the lone door withholding all of the director's secrets.

She picks the lock with ease, slipping in without a sound and shutting the door behind her in the same way.

Just standing here now is enough to warrant a conviction, especially considering the fact that she is here under no orders of Pierce himself. The realization is enough for her to take a harrowing breath, but push her way into the dark room nonetheless.

The entire room is clinically clean and neat, unsurprisingly. The cliche pictures of wife and children sit pretty in his massive stained oak desk, and to Sharon's relief, none of the drawers contain locking mechanisms.

The first drawer finds much of nothing. A few files containing mission debriefings and senate hearings.

Two more drawers, and she still hasn't found anything even remotely incriminating.

She takes a seat in the large pleated leather chair behind the highly unsatisfying information depot of a desk, and takes a few steadying breaths.

She'd known Fury for a long time; her Aunt Peggy very good friends with the man, becoming somewhat of a mentor to him as he rose through the ranks of the Homeland Affairs department. He had never once given Sharon a reason not to trust him completely; and she ruefully thinks to herself as she makes her way over to the large bookcase across the room that she really doesn't want to start distrusting him now.

Still though, the idea of Pierce orchestrating something so despicable seems unfathomable; and the painful lack of evidence is becoming very frustrating.

Very much alike her scan of the desk's contents, the first few cabinets hold nothing interesting, and her impatience is now slowly morphing into anger.

If Pierce indeed is hiding something, how the Hell does she find out what it is? And the other option; Fury lying about it all.....

Why?

He has absolutely no reason to make such weighted accusations if monumental consequences aren't at stake.

Toward the back of a lower drawer, her hand briefly ghosts over a small solid object, and upon removing it from the case and inspecting it, she finds that it is a flash drive, the acronym BFE written in black ink on the backside.

She has spent enough time corresponding with the ranks of the army to recognize the status, Bum Fuck Egypt to mean exactly as the name entails. A barren, usually uninhabitable area that infantries usually avoid. Instincts are telling Sharon that this is somehow very important, and she needs to find out what exactly is on this flash drive as soon as possible.

The sound of hushed talking echoes beyond the door, and Sharon has but seconds to duck into a roll and take cover behind a large black leather couch adjacent to the center of the room.

The door flies open, but the room stays bathed in darkness.

She recognizes Pierce's voice immediately; the man talking very hushed, a desperate and perturbed edge to his words.

"Ross and Rumlow are inconsequential at this point. You told me that Rhodes wouldn't be an issue. If he finds out about our little project, it's over Jack. We'll be lucky if a public execution isn't in order."

The words are enough to send every nerve in Sharon's body trembling. She's desperately aware of how minuscule a cover the couch offers, and hopes beyond comprehension that Pierce doesn't move any further into the room.

"Things are quiet here. No one suspects anything. I intend to keep it that way. I need you to promise me that we can put a cap on this all. Rhodes and anyone in association with him need to be put down, point blank. Stern and I have a few ideas beyond that, I just need a little more time."

He's silent for a few moments before he begins to move, and Sharon's heart stops as the man takes a seat behind his desk; she only able to huddle in on herself, and listen with baited breath to his final exchange with who she gathered at this point to be Rollins.

"Keep me informed, Agent Rollins, and take care of Rhodes."

The room is dreadfully quiet in that moment, Pierce's heavy breaths just hardly masking Sharon's rapid fire heartbeat.

The sound of the door once again being thrown open is enough to almost give the woman a heart attack, and Stern's frantic voice fills the room a moment later.

"Well? What did he say? Have we been made?"

"No. Colonel Rhodes has a small group consisting of the mayor, the town's medical examiner and physician and a few others with him. Agent Rollins is to intercept them and eliminate them. The rest of the town's population has already been shuttled out and will be lead to believe that a natural gas leak at a local mining facility was the cause of the quarantine."

Sharon's mind is a symphony of voices, screaming at her to run, to scream, to do something, but her body stays pressed against the back of the couch, still completely hidden.

"Contamination counts are already upwards of ninety, Senator. The test run was overwhelmingly successful. We'll be reaping the rewards of this endeavor soon enough."

"I like the sound of that. We need to get back, though. The Director was freaking me out with that eyepatch."

It's not until the two men have exited the room and the door has once again been closed and locked that Sharon finally takes a breath. Her mind is still racing; everything the two just unknowingly confessed to hitting like a bullet to her chest.

Whatever this file contains, Sharon has to piece it all together and quick. She needs solid evidence of treason if she wants to bring the two down.

First issue at hand however, is finding a way to contact Rhodes. The man is in grave danger, and Sharon will be damned if she doesn't warn him, Tony, and the rest.

Making her way out of the room, she's careful not to draw any attention to herself as she slides past her constituents, and is almost to the elevator when a call comes in over a control panel, the voice belonging to one of the officers commandeering the shuttles out of Waverly.

" _Rogue vehicle. Repeat, rogue vehicle. Unit 13 compromised. A group of hostiles broke the quarantine line._ "

Before the young man in position at the panel has a chance to respond, Sharon is at his side pressing the reply line.

"This is Agent Carter. I will speak to Representative Pierce on the matter. We have men inside. Focus on the task at hand and get those people under your watch out of the contamination zone."

"Yes, ma'am."

She ends the transmission before plastering on her best authoritative glare and turning to the few seated around her.

"Please send all transmissions from this panel to my own personal line. Pierce has too much else to deal with at the moment. Someone give me the line to the Sat phone in the stolen Humvee. I'm going to try and negotiate and end to that situation myself."

The young man closest to the panel begins typing furiously before sprawling out the number on a scrap of paper and handing it to Sharon.

She smiles curtly before turning on her heel and making a hasty retreat; letting out a slow breath and leaning her forehead against the cold stainless steel of the elevator wall once its doors slide closed.

She takes a look at the paper in her hand and then closes her eyes before dialing the number.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Take a left up here. We'll hide this thing at the bottom of Lake Nova."

Maria does exactly as Clint instructs, all four staying quiet after he speaks.

They had agreed to dump the army vehicle as soon as they could. From there, they would make their way to Clint and Nat's farm to try and get the old junker of a police cruiser sitting in the back of the barn running, hopefully able to shuttle their loved ones out in it if all goes well.

Clint hates the tension in the small confines of the vehicle; the looks of fear in his friends' eyes. So, he lets a small laugh ghost over his lips before speaking to the three around him.

"Alright. Let's pretend we're all in highschool again. We'll do some type of spill your guts bullshit to help clear our heads. Maria, you start. First thing you're going to do as soon as this is all over."

The young brunette gives him an analyzing smile before it turns to something softer; more fond.

"I want to go back to Chicago. Make some happy memories there. I wanna try and erase all the hate my father made me feel for my hometown."

Clint didn't think that she'd actually play along with his little stint, but is infinitely glad that she did. The young woman rarely ever veers from her clearheaded pragmatism, so to see her be so emotionally exposed sets his nerves at bay.

He places a soft hand on her shoulder and doesn't break her gaze until Sam clears his throat from the backseat.

"I'm gonna order me a big ass three-meat pizza and buy a six pack of Pabst. Then, I'm going to go over to Wade Wilson's place, and punch him square in the teeth for being such an obnoxious asshole all the time."

That's enough to have the other three dissolving into a fit of laughter, helping to shift the mood of their situation away from the dread it held minutes earlier.

Sam wipes at his eyes and then continues on in a much softer tone.

"Then, I don't know. Maybe call my ma. I haven't talked to her enough recently. Maybe, visit Riley's wife and son. Maybe, finally visit Yellowstone and Old Faithful and the like. I've always wanted to, but just never took the time to pursue it. Maybe, convince Maria here to finally accompany me for dinner and a movie."

She continues smiling, and for once, doesn't take an out.

"I'd like that."

All three men look at her as if she'd just turned water into wine, Sam jokingly feeling his pulse and grasping at Steve.

"Steve. You're my best bud. Please tell me I'm not hearing things."

The blonde just shakes his head at his friend, before confirming that he indeed heard her right.

Once Maria stops laughing and finally wills the blush in her cheeks away, she looks back at Steve and gives him her best smile.

"It's your turn to spill, Rogers."

Steve smiles down at his feet, lost in thought, before lifting his gaze to his friends around him.

"I want to give Buck the best damned wedding of all time, with everyone there to celebrate. Then, we want to look into adoption. Maybe start with a puppy as a trial run."

The four chuckle at that before Steve rubs at the back of his neck and continues on.

"I think I might sell the bike so we can start saving towards adding on to the house. We both really want another bedroom on the first floor for when we do need a nursery."

Sam pats him on the back, and Clint and Maria have similar warm smiles gracing their features as another companionable quiet fills the air around them.

"Well, after all the work is done over at my place, we can all saddle up and head on over to do yours."

Clint just closes his eyes, lets his head loll back onto the seat behind him.

"Hell, I mean, I've already got everything that I need. A great job, the best friends a guy could ask for, a wife who is my literal guardian angel, and a baby on the way. I don't need anything other than to live every day for the rest of my life cherishing all that I've been lucky enough to stumble into."

Maria lets out a slightly tearful laugh, wiping at her eyes before kissing her open palm and pressing it to Clint's cheek.

"Wow, Chief. That was beautiful."

The group all stay quiet after that, a semblance of calm surrounding them. They didn't need the reminder of what is all at stake, but it helps regardless.

Maybe life will forever be different after this horror is over. Maybe, Waverly will be nothing but a distant memory years from now; but as long as they have one another, none of it will matter.

Maria eventually pulls off the road right alongside the lake, and puts the vehicle in neutral.

The focus and determination from earlier rise to the forefront of their being once again, wordlessly taking different corners of the car, ready to give it enough push to start it's way into the water.

Clint clears his throat, then begins the countdown.

"Three.....two....."

The sound of a phone ringing makes all of them nearly jump out of their skin. They stand in shock for a moment before Sam finally opens one of the doors, pulling out the culprit.

"Should I.....?"

No one gives an answer, so Sam goes against what is probably his better judgement, and answers the Sat phone.

"Hello?"

"Who am I speaking to?"

"Who _am I_ speaking to?"

It's a female voice, that much Sam can gather. Means literally nothing when the sheer authority and tenacity in her voice is enough to make anyone quake in their boots.

"All you need to know is that I'm on your side. You pulled a real stupid stunt reentering the quarantine zone. What could possibly be possessing you to stick around with all that's going on?"

Sam gathers himself and strings together what he hopes is a coherent response, his colleagues faces all very transfixed on him.

"Well, your army buddies aren't exactly precision instruments, to be perfectly honest. There are innocent people dropping like flies out here, are you aware of _that_?

When the mystery caller speaks again, it's with a much calmer, less biting tone of voice. In an unexplainable way, it makes Sam feel almost calm.

"I'm aware. Very painfully aware as a matter of fact. I suppose honesty is in order. My name is Sharon Carter. I'm Level Eight clearance for the CIA. I'm trying to contact Colonel Rhodes."

Clint's ears perk up at the name, and before Sam can say anything, the phone is being pulled from his grasp.

"Yeah, uh...hi. I'm the town's sheriff, Clint Barton. My deputies and I were separated from Rhodes when the containment protocol was enacted. We're en route to the highschool as we speak."

He looks around at his three friends, then asks the question that has been biting at him since Sam first answered the call.

"How bad is the situation, Agent Carter?"

The woman lets out a steady exhale, but her voice remains lax and soothing once she begins speaking again.

"It's ugly, Sheriff. But you're all gonna get through this. I just need you to find Rhodes, and have him contact me as soon as you do. I'm sure you've heard this a thousand times tonight, but believe me when I say that I'm gonna help you all. Rhodes has a few people with him; Stark and his wife, and I believe I heard something about an ME and a doctor."

Clint feels his knees go week, grasping with his free hand at Sam standing next to him, and cuts off Sharon's next words after exhaling deeply.

"That would be the reason we stormed back in here ma'am."

She holds her tongue for what seems like forever, and that's enough reason for Clint to feel that earlier sense of dread creeping up inside of him once again.

"They family?"

"Yes. All of them."

"Well, then listen very carefully, Clint. My director delegated four other top-ranking Commanders to your hometown under the false pretense of putting a cap on the situation and facilitating a cure as swiftly as possible. I have reason to believe that the incident was orchestrated purposefully by my boss. He just gave orders to the only man he has left out there, Agent Jack Rollins, to eliminate Rhodes and the group of people he's with. I'm going to do everything on my end to put a stop to this madness, even if it kills me. I need you to find Rhodes, and get anywhere safe, and have him contact me as soon as he is able to do so. First thing you're going to want to do is ditch the Humvee you stole."

Clint regains his strength, looks around at Maria and Sam, then let's his gaze rest on Steve for a moment; a kindred spirit between the two of them, needing to find their way back to the loves of their lives.

"Already on it ma'am."

"Godspeed, Sheriff."

He hands the phone off to Sam, and immediately makes his way over to Steve, placing both hands on the man's broad shoulders, and allowing a hopeful smile to radiate from him.

"Tasha and Bucky are alive, but they're in trouble. We've gotta find them as soon as possible."

Steve doesn't say anything, just moves away from Clint, and to everyone's surprise, gives one good heave to the back of their stolen transport, sending it careening into the water.

Before anyone can string together any type of coherent thoughts, the blond is already walking away from the group down the lonely stretch of pavement leading back toward the town, and toward Bucky.

"You guys coming or what?"

With that the other three fall into pace behind him, and begin their rescue mission.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The night seems especially dark as Rhodes and the others continue on their way to the Sheriff's farmhouse.

A slight chill in the air has them staying fairly close together, and silence has once again fallen upon them.

"There's a light on in that house up ahead."

Natasha follows Rhodes' line of sight to the house in mention, and then lets out a small gasp realizing who it belongs to.

"Wanda and Pietro live there with their foster father."

Tony pulls ahead of the rest, turning back toward Rhodey, giving him a meaningful look; one the commander recognizes immediately.

"We're not leaving two kids behind, Rhodey. I hope you know that."

"I don't know who you take me for, Stark, I would never. Let's be quick about this, though."

It's not long after that they are all standing in a circle on the kid's front porch.

Natasha takes Jane's hand, and begins to step toward the door.

"Let us go on ahead of you. They'll be more comfortable with familiar faces."

The others silently agree with the sentiment, and allow the two women to slowly push the door open and enter the house.

Once the door is shut again, a compete shift in atmosphere is instantly noticeable.

Wolfgang Von Strucker was a devout Christian man, his home always being immaculately clean, and Wanda and Pietro being raised into intelligent, passionate, respectful young adults. It's no surprise that a vinyl record is spinning in the parlor, Johnny Cash's voice emanating throughout the empty first floor.

_And the whirlwind, is in the thorn tree..._

Nat and Jane scan through the few rooms in close proximity to them, and find no one anywhere in the house.

"Come on in. No one's home."

The other six file in slowly after Nat had finished speaking, and their ears immediately attune to the song playing throughout the empty house.

It takes all of a few seconds for Bucky to walk over to the record player and cut out the noise of the music, turning back to the group with a look of disgust.

"Im starting to really hate that song."

Nat gives a sigh before taking a seat and resting her head in her open palm, eyes closed.

Rhodey scans the room once again, and then turns to speak to the group.

"They must have been evacuated quickly. Probably didn't have time to lock up or anything."

Jane takes a seat on the couch opposite Natasha, and Bucky goes to the kitchen, grabbing a bottled water, then the bathroom; producing Aspirin from the medicine cabinet for Nat.

Everyone silently agrees to rest up for a moment, so Bobbi steps away from the group, walking quietly toward the back of the house, toward the back porch.

Tony, Pepper and Rhodey announce that they are going to head out to the barn outside and see if they have still got an old two-way radio to use to contact help, and Thor heads to the basement for the same reason.

Bucky finds his way into the kitchen, pulling a ten dollar bill out of his wallet and throwing it on the island for Strucker, before digging through his pantry for food for all of them.

The two remaining in the parlor all quickly begin to nod off, the quiet very welcome after the long night they had been through so far.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"So.....maybe up on the loft? Pep, come here, I'll lift you up."

Knowing that arguing with her husband is always futile, Pepper allows herself to be lifted onto his shoulders, then grasps at a sturdy rafter next to her, and pulls herself up onto the loft.

There are some old equipment parts and feeding bags, but to her disappointment, no radio.

"Nothing. Sorry boys."

"How about behind that hay bail?"

Pepper follows Tony's outstretched index finger to the far end of the loft, and sees a large hay bail sitting in the corner.

"Give me a second."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Bobbi? I found some apples and oranges in the fridge."

Bobbi turns and gives a soft smile as Bucky takes a place on the back porch with her.

"Thanks, love. I'll come in in a second. I just needed to clear my head."

He pulls her into a hug then, rubbing soothing circles into her back as silent tears begin to drip from her eyes once more.

"Shhh. It's alright. As soon as we find him, I'm punching Lance in the face."

She laughs into his hair, not even trying to protest the offer.

They stay holding onto one another for a moment, when out of nowhere, Pepper's horrified scream fills the air.

They give each other one knowing look before bounding down the back steps into the yard, and taking off toward the barn.

"What the Hell happened?"

Rhodes looks just as lost as they are, Tony clambering his way up to where his wife is standing stock still, hands covering her eyes.

Once he reaches her position, he makes a distressed noise then pulls her into an embrace and turns to face Rhodes.

"Ah, God. It's, it's the twins. Someone, someone...."

And that's all it takes for the other three to understand exactly what had caused Pepper's reaction.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Jane is still half asleep when the Cash song starts playing again, and she decides in that moment that she also hates it.

Opening her eyes just enough to look across from her, Nat is still sleeping in the armchair.

Jane stays seated, knowing that very soon, they would all be back out in the chill night, marching on out of Waverly to safety.

She's vaguely aware of footsteps behind her, and begins speaking to her boyfriend.

"You find anything down there, babe?"

Thor doesn't answer, just places a hand on her shoulder.

Jane reaches up and places her open palm to it, remembering his words from earlier. The man is probably the only reason she's held herself together this long, and the thought of wearing his ring on her finger brings a small smile to her lips.

Across from her, Natasha slowly begins to wake up, and Jane watches her face go from one of confusion, to utter horror, and she has just enough time to turn and pull away from the hand on her shoulder, when another is throwing a knife down into her upper arm.

She staggers away from the couch, Natasha grabbing at her shoulders to help her along, as Strucker's bloodied form begins stalking toward her.

He lunges at her, and she is only able to let out an aborted shriek as a gunshot rings out in the room.

As her attacker falls lifeless to the floor, Thor is revealed, gun drawn, standing behind him.

Jane makes to step toward him, but instead, watches as he steps over the already dead man, and shoots him once, twice, three more times in the head, no emotions in his eyes as he does so.

Eventually, in what feels like eons later to the two women watching the terror happen in front of them, the other five come running from the barn.

Jane's eyes are glued on Thor, however; the man still staring down at the body on the floor beneath him. His eyes are dead, and Jane has never felt so helpless in all her life.

Her mind is still on hold, but her feet slowly start carrying her toward her boyfriend.

She's only somewhat registering Nat speaking her name behind her as she places a soft hand on Thor's shoulder.

"You're bleeding."

With that, he's lowering the weapon and seating them both on the couch, tending to her wound and offering words of reassurance.

The two are too far enveloped in their own affairs to notice the baited breaths and haunted looks from the group around them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as everyone is reunited, a horrible event takes place.

_"Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna come here and kiss me?"_

_The dark of the night is enough to hide the massive blush dusting Thor's cheeks, so his pride can stay intact._

_He moves the few short steps over to his girlfriend, kissing her softly and wrapping his arms around her waste for a moment, before lifting her off her feet and spinning her in the air, never once breaking contact with her lips._

_They had been at Nat and Clint's reception for hours now, the time close to three in the morning. In the confines of his own head, Thor takes stock of the way that the purple bridesmaid dress Jane's wearing hugs her body in all the right places, and the way his little stunt has her laughing the kind of laugh that makes her eyes crinkle at the edges, her hair falling into her face as she covers her mouth with her open palm._

_For the hundredth time that night, his mind wanders into thinking how beautiful she'd look in a wedding gown, walking down the aisle toward the rest of their life together._

_He is hopelessly in love with this woman._

_"You're a work of art, you know that?"_

_"And you're very desperately wanting to get some tonight."_

_It's enough to make them both dissolve into a fit of laughter once more, stealing a few kisses as they do._

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jane hasn't said a word to Thor since he'd lead the rest silently back out into the dark night, continuing their trek to the cruiser; and their ticket out of town.

If the others had witnessed the same absence of humanity in those brief seconds that the man was relentlessly pulling the trigger of the gun he now has holstered, they're not saying as much.

Now though, he's holding tight to her, every few minutes asking if her bandage is still holding, or if she needs to rest for a moment, genuine warmth and concern in his voice.

Watching the man with a weary gaze, Rhodey grabs Tony's shoulder, deliberately slowing their pace to fall far enough behind the group to carry on a conversation only the two of them will be able to hear.

"He's not right, Tony. Everyone saw it. It's only a matter of time before...."

"I don't know what you're talking about. He looks fine."

Rhodes just sighs; he had desperately hoped that Tony wouldn't pull this act, but isn't surprised by it in the slightest.

"I'm serious. If he is infected, and we let him regress any further, it's over. Especially since he's the only one still with a gun."

Tony stares straight ahead, gazing at the blond walking with Jane wrapped in his arms. He wasn't lying for his own sake, Thor truly does seem just as himself, concern for his girlfriend clearly etched in his features. Still though, the memories of Scott and Erik, completely mindless and lifeless is enough to make him truly consider Rhodey's words.

"Alright, uh. How about, once we make it to Clint's place, we find a way to get the gun away from him. If he continues on as he is now, then all is well. If he does start to show signs of infection, well....."

Taking one more hard look at the two, they look so young and vulnerable in that moment, weighing so heavily on one another; he can't help but see Pepper and himself in the two of them.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

-

After walking the rest of the journey in silence, the gravel driveway leading up to the wrap around porch of the Barton farmhouse might as well be the gates of Heaven themselves.

Natasha immediately leads Bucky and Jane inside, wanting to redo their bandaging. Bobbi and Pepper follow behind them, offering their help in any way that they can.

Tony and Rhodey take the opportunity to block Thor's path into the house.

Before he can object, Tony grabs him by the shoulder, leading him to the barn.

"Hey big guy. You think you could give us a hand getting this junker started?"

Thor brushes the mayor's hand from his shoulder and stops in his tracks, his gaze already falling back to the house that Jane just disappeared into.

"Natasha said that the sheriff was already able to get the thing running. You shouldn't need my help."

Panicking, Tony grabs his shoulder once more, scrambling for any excuse to get the man to follow him.

"Well, just in case. Jane is in the best hands possible, she'll be fine for a moment without you."

Thor seems completely unaffected by Tony's words, turning and walking toward the house with not even one look back in the mayor's direction.

Tony's eyes follow him all the way up the porch steps and in through the front door, before turning around to his best friend behind him, looking absolutely defeated until Rhodes holds up the gun that had moments before been holstered to Thor's side.

"I've still got a few tricks."

 

 

* * *

 

 

"The cut wasn't all that deep, so scar tissue is already starting to form. Just try not to move it too much or put any strain on it."

"Thank you, Natasha."

Nat gives Jane a soft smile before turning to leave her and her boyfriend in peace, striding next into the kitchen to Bucky to check his wounds.

"How are you holding up, люблю?"

He smiles up at his friend, lifting up his sweatshirt in the process to give her a good look at his bandaging.

"You sewed me up real good, Natalia. I think I'll live."

She just pats him on the cheek before pulling herself up to sit next to him on the kitchen counter.

Her expression is very unreadable, and Bucky feels about ready to ask what is on her mind before he follows her line of sight to Thor and Jane still sitting together in the dining room.

"At least they have each other through all this."

The words imply far more than Nat supplies, and Bucky just sighs next to her, feeling the sentiment tenfold.

"All we have to do is make it to that depot. Clint and Steve will be waiting for us when we get there, I'm sure of it."

She just wraps her arm through his then, and rests her head on his shoulder, before piecing together the heavy thoughts that have been weighing on her mind for the past few days.

"Then what? What happens to the people that caused all this? What happens to Bruce's family when they find out about his murder? What about all of us and the lives we have here? This is home, Bucky. This is our God-damned home and they're taking it away from us."

He sighs, but not in defeat. His eyes scan the room before landing on the opposite wall, a beautiful sketch that his fiancé drew of Clint and Natasha kissing at the alter hanging next to a picture of all of them smiling, standing together in the finished nursery.

"If Clint just woke up one day, and decided to move somewhere crazy, would you do it?"

"Clint's always saying crazy shit, darling."

"I'm trying to be profound here, Natalia. Please humor me."

Nat goes quiet then, closing her eyes and truly thinking on her friend's words. As she reopens her eyes, she takes sight of the same pictures Bucky had been looking at just a moment before, and lets out a steady exhale.

"Of course I would."

"Because?"

"Because......"

Because the man has saved her life in more ways than she can ever fathom. Because he is going to make the best father to her child. Because sitting here now, she feels as if she'll never be able to feel safe and happy until he's with her once again.

"Because home is wherever he is."

They stay huddled together for a moment longer before Nat excuses herself, silently moving past the others to the stairwell.

Making her way up slowly, she's relieved beyond measure to find that her home hasn't succumbed to the same unbreakable darkness and dread that has consumed the rest of the town.

The door to the nursery is wide open, and Nat is surprised to find Bobbi standing alone in the room, hugging her arms to herself and smiling at the warmth the nursery exudes.

"I see you liked my design idea for the crib."

Natasha smiles brightly at the words, taking in the small wooden carriage wheels on each corner; remembering Bobbi making the suggestion while they had been out for coffee together right after Nat made her pregnancy announcement.

"It turned out so much better than I ever thought it would."

Bobbi smiles back at her, before dipping her head and laughing softly.

"Well, Clint made it, so it was bound to be perfect."

They stand in silence, the room somewhat of a haven; silencing the horror raging on outside.

"I'm honestly surprised he didn't immediately shoot down the idea as soon as he found out it was mine."

Nat actually snorts at that, stepping closer to Bobbi, and placing a soft hand on her shoulder.

"If it makes you feel any better, he was being a dork the other day, 'talking' to the baby, and pointing at pictures of everyone."

Nat moves until she is standing at the foot of the crib, laying both hands softly on the wooden bars.

"He introduced our child to Maria and Sam and Thor, saying a bunch of nice stuff about them, and then he moved on to Uncle Bucky and Uncle Steve, and Aunt Bobbi. I think that speaks for itself."

Bobbi doesn't try to will the wetness in her eyes away. A part of her would always love Clint, and the dynamic they have now is one in which they can be as close as ever. Not to mention the fact that Natasha literally makes him the happiest bastard alive.

"That's a high honor. How am I ever gonna compete with those two?"

Nat smiles fondly at the cascading white sheets and soft plush lions and tigers laying inside the small crib, rubbing at her stomach, before turning her gaze back to her friend.

"Well, Steve will be a little shit, I'm sure. Teaching them to punch first, ask questions later. Bucky will probably turn them into the sultriest little flirt of all time. So, just make sure they at least inherit your kindness, and things will be great in my book."

Bobbi does will away the tears this time, not wanting to turn into an ugly sobbing mess, before responding to her friend.

"Hopefully they won't be as clumsy as your husband."

That has both ladies snorting and wiping at their eyes, sitting in the middle of the carpeted floor, just sharing their company.

"Could you imagine. I'd have a full head of gray hair by the time this kid is three years old."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky stretches after a few minutes, standing from his spot on the counter and moving through the kitchen, passing Pepper filling a few packs with bottled water, granola bars, gauze, the like. Jane and Thor are still sat next to one another in the living room, so he moves on into the back half of the house into the large parlor that connects to the solarium.

Even more frames holding happy memories sit on the mantle of the fireplace, and he finds a soft smile passing over his lips, taking one into his hands.

The picture was taken at the station, both he and Nat sitting on the hood of one of the department's SUVs; Steve with an arm wrapped around him, Bucky resting his head on his shoulder, and Clint and Nat mirroring their stance.

Bucky drifts into memories of the blond then, smiling as his eyes stay glued to the two of them in the picture.

-

_"Golden retrievers are basically you if you were a canine. Just look at that face, Stevie. These things are too fucking cute for their own good."_

_The blond hardly looked up from the coffee he was nursing, his fiancé sweet enough to wake up early and make him a fresh pot along with some breakfast after a midnight patrol shift._

_Bucky was scanning over the third internet article so far about the best types of dog breeds, absolutely elated a few days earlier when Steve had first mentioned adopting a puppy._

_"I think I'd like a chocolate lab, just like I had when we were kids."_

_Bucky smiles over at the man, remembering the countless summer days running around with his childhood best friend and his trusty dog, Cap._

_"We could always get a dalmatian. They're supposed to be excellent with children."_

_Steve winces at that, collecting his empty mug and plate and carrying them to the sink._

_"I think I'd be breaking some type of policeman's code of honor. A German Shepard on the other hand..."_

_Bucky laughs as he shuts his laptop, and stands up from the kitchen table, stretching his arms in the air._

_Steve just stands there and admires the beauty of the man in front of him. He smiles brightly, thinking he must be the luckiest son of a bitch in the world to get to spend the rest of his life with his best friend and first love._

_As Bucky stretches out the kinks in his body, his shirt rides up the slightest bit, revealing a thin line of toned muscle. The early morning light is cascading in through the window, and hitting not only his gleaming metal prosthetic, but the perfect sharp lines of his cheeks and jaw; his long brown hair not up in it's usual bun._

_As he falls out of the stretch, his sweater falls back down to rest as it was, and Steve holds back the urge to pout._

_The brunet laughs over at him, as a loose strand of hair has fallen in his face. He tucks it behind his ear before turning away from his fiancé and making to grab for his dishes._

_"It's not polite to stare, Steve."_

_Steve pushes away from the counter striding over to Bucky who still has his back turned to him, before winding back and slapping his ass._

_"Come on, let me thank you for making breakfast."_

_Bucky huffs out a laugh before leaping onto Steve's retreating form._

_"I'm still sore from all three times yesterday."_

_Steve gains better purchase on his fiancé, hoisting him higher onto his back. The brunet rests his head on Steve's shoulder, who takes the opportunity to press a sloppy kiss to his cheek._

_"It's no big deal. It's been a while since I've been on the bottom bunk anyway."_

_"Well, when you put it that way..."_

-

A shadowed figure moving through his periphery is enough to pull Bucky out of his reverie, and he has seconds to drop the picture he'd been holding, before the click of a gun's firing pin sounds in the room.

Using all his strength, he spins around and kicks the gun clean out of the man's hands. He's dressed in military-grade clothing, helmet and all, and Bucky knows he must be one of Rollin's thugs.

The man's lunging at him a second later, as Bucky desperately blocks blow after blow.

Ever thankful now for Steve taking those countless defense courses with him, he's actually able to hold his own against his attacker.

The guy makes the mistake of trying to throw his leg up and kick Bucky in the face, as the brunet catches his leg in both hands before planting both feet firm on the carpet beneath him and using all his strength to shove the guy through the glass window separating the two rooms.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The sound of glass shattering has Thor on his feet in seconds.

The sound came from the back of the house, where he watched Bucky make his way to a few minutes before.

"Bucky? You alright?"

His eyes cast down to Jane, who is looking through the adjoining arch between the dining room and the wide hallway leading to the back of the house, waiting for Bucky's response.

He takes a few steps forward, so that he is standing just in front of where Jane is seated at the table, when all of a sudden she takes notice of a single small red dot in the center of his back.

"Get down!"

He has no time to process what all is happening as Jane jumps up from her seat, and shoves him into the wall with enough force to knock the air out of him.

He stands there, dazed, just staring back at his girlfriend whose expression has become indecipherable.

Then, she staggers toward him, grasping him with both hands to keep herself upright; to no avail, as she slumps against him, and he is helpless but to cradle her fall as he slides down the wall and holds her to his chest.

That's when he notices the gunshot wound high up on her back, and the shattered window leading to the front porch, where the barrel of a gun is once again being raised.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Did you hear that?"

Rhodey doesn't look up from where he's messing underneath the hood of the Bronco, checking the oil, transmission fluid, and the like.

"Hear what?"

Before Tony can respond, the rear door to the barn is being thrown open, revealing Clint and Maria looking completely worn down.

"Sheriff! Fancy meeting you here!"

Clint's expression goes from one of shock, to confusion, to elation when he sees Tony and Rhodey alive and well.

"Under any other circumstances, I'd be kicking your ass out of here, but, it's really good to see you, Tony."

The distinct sound of a gunshot rings out for miles, and they all go silent, as Tony turns to the colonel once more.

"DID YOU HEAR THAT!?"

They all run out of the barn at full speed, but stop in their tracks as their eyes fall upon a man in a uniform not unlike Rhodey's holding a raised rifle in his hands, sights set on someone inside the house.

Rhodey has the gun he swiped from Thor raised in a heartbeat, putting a bullet in the guys trigger hand, causing him to drop his weapon.

Howling in pain, he turns to have Tony punch him square in the teeth, and then falls to the ground unconscious.

"Nice swing."

Tony smiles back at his friend, before the facade falls, and he's making a pained expression and cupping his hand to his chest.

"NO! JANE, DON'T DO THIS. PLEASE!"

That has them sprinting up the steps and bursting in through the front door of the house, stopping dead in their tracks when they see Thor clutching Jane to him, a pool of her blood beneath them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Grabbing the discarded gun, Bucky slowly makes his way into the solarium, where his attacker is laying amongst shards of broken glass.

A gunshot echoes from the front of the house, and he whips his head around, finding that he is still alone back here.

Suddenly caught off guard, the man kicks the gun away from Bucky, before swiping his legs out from underneath him.

Th guy then goes for his thigh, pulling a small blade from it's sheath, and lunging at Bucky.

He rolls out of the way before the guy can do any damage, then hops to his feet. The soldier follows him up, and starts his assault with the blade once more.

Bucky keeps his focus this time however, grabbing Natasha's favorite decorative charger from the side table beside him, and using it to defend himself from the blade.

Careful to shield himself from the knife, he goes completely on the defensive, realizing that his best option is to get the guy outside, away from everyone else in the house.

Thor's voice cries out in the now eerily silent house, and it causes the soldier to break concentration long enough for Bucky to kick him hard in the chest, sending him through the screen door into the backyard. The guys falls into a roll, over his shoulder, and stands to square up to Bucky once more.

He's being hit across the head with a baseball bat a moment later, falling to the ground out cold.

Bucky could cry with relief when he sees Sam standing over his attacker, throwing the bat somewhere off into the yard.

"I had him on the ropes."

His friend turns to address him, but Bucky has him in a tight embrace before he has the chance.

"What are you doing here? God dammit, Sam. You were safe. What the Hell did you come back here for?"

Sam just huffs in annoyance. Bucky is a professional mother hen; and his primary targets are always his fiancé, Natasha, Bobbi, and himself.

"Well, since you were stuck here, someone had to watch out for-"

"Buck!"

The brunet has seconds to pull away from Sam before he's being pulled into Steve's protective embrace.

"Oh God, Oh Thank God."

Sam turns from the two, giving them their much deserved privacy.

"Hi Stevie."

To their credit, neither is the sobbing mess that Sam predicted they'd be upon their reunion. They both do have tears in their eyes, though, and Steve seems as if he's never going to let Bucky free of his hold.

"Your boy has a mean kick. Hit this dude square in the chest."

Steve just smiles against his fiancé's lips, both their eyes bright and laughing.

"I told you the martial arts stuff wasn't bullshit, and look, I wasn't here and you were still able to protect yourself."

Bucky plants his lips firmly against Steve's then, before resting his face in the crook of his neck.

"But you're here now. And I really wanna keep it that way."

"Me too, Buck."

"BOYS! COME QUICK!"

The three turn to see Pepper's already retreating form heading back toward the front of the house, and they quickly follow suit.

 

* * *

 

 

Nat can't speak, can't even think. Thor has Jane cradled so closely to him, she couldn't even take a look at the gunshot wound even if she thought she had a chance of saving the woman beside her.

Slowly, she pushes herself up from the floor, and looks in horror as both of her palms are now covered in her friend's blood.

She turns, only to be wrapped in her husband's arms, and that's all it takes for the tears to start falling.

"Thor... Love."

The blond just clings to the dying woman, holding her close, hoping that she isn't feeling any pain.

"I've got you. I'm right here."

She reaches up and runs a hand down his cheek, before letting it sit against his chest.

"Tell me about our wedding."

He smiles through his tears, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear in the process.

By this point, Pepper has completely turned away from the scene, much like Nat; cradled to her husband.

Sam slowly moves over to take Maria's hand, and she turns to hide her face on his shoulder.

Bobbi and Rhodey both have distant looks on their faces, and Bucky is standing behind Steve, occasionally pressing his face into the crook of the blond's neck when the scene in front of him becomes to hard to watch.

"You want it to be outdoors. I was thinking the rose gardens in the village park. It'll be early spring, so all the flowers would be in bloom."

Jane continues smiling up at the man as he goes into further detail about the beauty of the ceremony that will never come to fruition.

"We'll have a live band and not a DJ, just like you said. We won't skimp on anything. I'll make sure to rent out the gazebo and everything."

Jane presses closer to him, holding as tight as she can.

"And we'll be together? For the rest of our lives?"

"For the rest of our lives."

She closes her eyes then, a single tear sliding down her cheek as she does.

"That's.... Good. That's good. I lo... Love..."

And she gives her final breath, leaving Thor to finish the thought for her.

"And I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hides behind hands* I'm sooooorrryyyy.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group are still trying to come to terms with Jane's death. Thor's condition is worsening, but there may be a light at the end of the tunnel. They just have to make it out first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys.
> 
> There is A BUNCH of potentially TRIGGERING stuff in this chapter. 
> 
> PLEASE be mindful of this before continuing on.
> 
> In the same breath, this is so far the chapter I'm most proud of, so I really hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> One more and an epilogue after this. I also have a playlist coming for the story.
> 
> THANK YOU all so much for your comments and kudos! It's been nice having my own little cult classic with this one!

" _And I love you_ "

Hands; grabbing him, trying to pry him away. He hears his name being called, but it's distant and muffled.

"Thor! Stop! Get off of him!"

"Someone stop him!"

The same hands continue to pry him away, still to no avail. He promised. He promised. He promised.

" _And I love you_."

Red. Blurring his vision, consuming him. There's no heartbeat anymore. She's gone. She's gone, and it's his fault. He promised her he would keep her safe. He promised. He promised.

"Oh my God!"

"Thor, Thor! Please, stop!"

He's aware of the sound of breaking bone, of blood splatter, dusting his face in slick crimson.

He's also aware of the weight of a rifle in his hands, barrel pointing upward to the sky, stock being thrown again and again into the man's skull who took his Jane away.

Then, he's being hit over the head, and dragged off of the soldier, Steve and Sam throwing him up against the house, before the adrenaline is falling away, and he's on his knees, sobbing into his hands.

The rest of the group are in various states of shock and horror, the women opting to stay with Jane's body, as the men had followed Thor out the front door, no clue then what the man had planned.

"She's.... Gone. He killed her. She's gone."

Bile threatens to rise from the pit of his gut, the sting of tears still all too harsh on his skin. The sounds of Jane's heartbeat slowly coming to a halt ringing in his ears, consuming him in sorrow.

Steve and Sam's half-hearted attempts at consolation fall flat on the air around them, the man sobbing into the dirt hearing none of them.

 

* * *

 

 

A fair amount of time passes before they are able to bring Thor into the house once again, the man immediately asking to sit in the dining room, taking Jane's hand from where a silk white bed sheet has been placed over her body, which the women moved to lay on the dining room table, head resting on a pillow from the family room.

Once they are alone, Natasha just collapses into her husband's arms, the bittersweet sting of such glorious reunion mixing with the harsh, guttural pain of loss.

"We're gonna die out here, Clint. We're all gonna die out here."

She feels as if no air is passing through her lungs whatsoever, the image of all the blood that had fallen in a pool beneath her friend imprinted in her mind. Just yesterday, these same men were promising to do everything in their power to help Waverly. Now, they're killing innocent people, snuffing out a life that had hardly had the chance to be lived.

"Don't talk like that, Nat. You know that it'll take the literal hand of God to keep me from protecting you."

"That's what _they_ were supposed to be doing! Now they're shooting us for the fuck of it!"

She's in hysterics, grasping at Clint, and willing her heart to calm. Her hands are still covered in Jane's blood, and all Nat continues to see is the life as it drained from the woman's eyes. An intense ringing begins in her ears, and her pulse continues to beat away wildly, as her breathing becomes even more erratic.

Her trembling body crescendos, every nerve seeming to be operating at full force, lungs screaming in an effort to draw in any breath, desperately clinging to the sound of Clint's voice piercing through the haze of her panic.

Clint just slowly lowers them both to the carpet beneath them, never loosening his hold on his wife, while placing one of her hands over his heart.

"Tasha. Try to steady your breathing for me. Match my heartbeat."

Through the cacophony of madness inside her racing mind, a steady beating rhythm begins pulsating under her fingers, and as minuscule as it is, it's instantly calming.

"I'm right here, возлюбленная . I'm not going anywhere. I got you."

The ringing in her ears dulls, but is still enough to make it hard to hear much of what her husband is trying to say to her.

"I can't hear anything, Clint."

The man continues to rub soothing circles into her back, then taps his index finger against one of his ears, showing off his hearing aids.

"It's okay, love. Neither can I."

She's actually able to produce a laugh in her mess of a mind, as manic as she may look in the midst of an attack, still clinging to his chest, latching onto his steady heartbeat.

Against everything, the trembling dies away, and she feels her breath evening out, matching in time with that of the man holding her like its his life's purpose. The pulse of his heart sounding like salvation.

"I got you. I'm not going anywhere."

 

* * *

 

 

Sharon is on a mission, one single task on her mind after hanging up with Barton, and that is to find out what the Hell is on the flash drive she had procured.

Finding the fifth floor to be entirely empty, she sets out quick, finding a secluded cubicle, and pulling the laptop on the desk to rest in her lap as she takes the flash drive out of the jacket pocket it was hidden in.

Booting up the thing and placing the drive into its correct port take no time at all, and Sharon finds herself hesitating to open the single preceding file it contains; her suspicions of the small device being important being validated when her eyes land on _Extremis_ as the file's title.

Taking a deep breath, she clicks on the icon, and a small document which she analyzes to be several e-mails between two private servers appears on the screen, Waverly: Extremis trial, appearing as the subject of each.

_Gentlemen,_

_I don't believe I need to remind you of the fragility of this operation. If that group leaves the borders of that town, they will tell of the strain, and our cover of a natural gas leak is blown away. They cannot be allowed to leave that town other than in body bags, I hope that I have made myself perfectly clear._

An e-mail further down the page truly chills her to the core, setting the severity of all of the events in stone.

_Gentleman,_

_I have reason to believe that Director Fury with the Homeland Division knows more than he's letting on. I plan on extinguishing this issue myself. I will allow him to participate in the proceedings of the containment protocol, and then most likely put a bullet in his skull._

 

Knowing almost full-well that Pierce had been the sender, Rollins and Rumlow being his recipients, and that Fury's right now sitting in a room with a man who has plans to kill him, Sharon closes out of the tab, shutting off the computer and once again tucking the drive away safe and hidden, before retreating back to the elevator, and immediately jumping out of her skin when her cell begins ringing.

Recognizing the number as the Sat phone she had spoken to Barton on, Sharon doesn't hesitate to answer.

"Hello?"

"Sharon, I am glad to hear your voice."

The familiar baritone resonates through the wire, and Sharon just collapses against the wall, the knowledge that Rhodey is still alive hitting her with too many emotions at once, and adding fuel to her commitment to holding Pierce responsible for all this terror.

"You stole the words right out of my mouth, Colonel."

"What the Hell are we dealing with?"

Sharon feels she could probably write a novel at this point of the myriad of revelations that she'd encountered since the protocol had been enacted, but tries to the best of her ability to steady her voice and give her friend an explanation, and warn him of the danger he now faces.

"Pierce and Senator Stern orchestrated this whole thing. Waverly was their test run for Extremis, and you, Ross, and the other two goons were just inconsequential in the whole scheme. Rollins still seems to be on his chain, and has orders to take you out, and the group you have with you. Director Fury is on our side, but that's only if Pierce doesn't kill him before I can get to him-"

Sharon stops listing off harrowing detail after harrowing detail to take a steadying breath, and deliver the one sentiment she's been needing to tell the Colonel since Fury first passed her the note in the situation room.

Just, get yourself and those people out of Waverly, as soon as possible, Rhodey. If Rollins can't deliver on taking you down, I'm terrified to think what Pierce will try next."

Before the man has a chance to respond, the doors to the elevator are opening, and who else but Pierce enters in, immediately giving her a smile that up until this point never seemed so unsettling and vicious.

"I'll have to call you back, babe. Duty calls."

She pockets the phone, making sure to calm her thoughts and plaster on her best poker face before turning and greeting the man next to her.

"Any progress on the Extremis front?"

His face doesn't reveal anything, and the smile he continues to wear has Sharon wanting to flee.

"Not yet, my dear. Was that someone special?"

"Boyfriend. Heard about a bad accident here in DC and wanted to call and check up on me. I'm sure you get the same calls from your wife."

He gives a very faux laugh before placing a soft hand on her shoulder, and continues to give her that same wicked smile.

"She likes to call when she thinks I'm up to no good, though I can hardly blame her. People are so hard to trust these days."

If Sharon hadn't been so thrown off by the man's words, she'd have noticed the doors to the elevator opening to another vacant floor, and the way the man moved to block her from reentering.

Instead, her hair ends up in Pierce's fist, who promptly knocks her unconscious against the wall next to them.

The man just stands over her, surveying his work before pulling out a phone of his own.

"This is Pierce. If Rollins hasn't radioed in with progress by nightfall, I want a bird in the air, and a bomb signed off for Waverly."

 

* * *

 

 

Steve and Bucky have been sitting with Thor for what feels like an eternity, nothing but the man's sobs filling the air around them.

Neither one have any words to say that could possibly ease their friends pain, so they continue on in silence.

Several times, Bucky finds himself wanting to reach out and take Steve's hand in his own, needing the reassurance that his fiancé truly had returned to him.

After taking one look at Thor crying over the dead body of his love however, he decides it would be in bad taste.

Steve is experiencing similar turmoil, and just generally feeling useless. He wants to tell Thor that all will be well, and that Jane will be vindicated, but he's not sure if that's a promise he can keep.

Suddenly Buck's on his feet, and Steve has seconds to mutter an apology to the other blond before he's chasing after his fiancé, who is making a beeline for the backyard, and the other attacker.

"Buck, where are you going."

"To get the other bastard."

Steve catches up to his fiancé, standing in front of him, and holding him in place with two firm hands on his shoulders. Bucky tries to continue pressing forward, but if Steve is anything (and Bucky can certainly attest) he's stubborn, holding his ground.

"I figured as much. And you're what? Gonna bash his skull in like Thor did to his partner?"

Bucky just narrows his eyes back at the man, and Steve at least has the decency to drop his hands from their vice-like grip on the brunet's shoulders.

"He's probably getting orders directly from Rollins. We can get answers as to why the fuck they're now slaying innocent people."

Steve just stands in profound amazement at his fiancé, a proud smile and faint blush gracing his features, before wrapping an arm around his waste, and pulling him in to kiss him on the forehead.

"You find new ways to knock me on my ass everyday, babe."

It's Bucky's turn to blush, before playfully shoving the blond out of his path as they both make their way to the backyard.

As expected, the guy is still unconscious on the ground, and it's an easy task to tie him up to the first chair they come across, out of reach of anything he can use to cut his restraints.

Steve finds the gun that had been kicked across the room in the soldier's struggle with Bucky, and holsters it when he finds it underneath a side table.

Bucky is just standing in front of the guy, hugging his arms to his body, and biting at his bottom lip, which besides being entirely too sexy to be legal if you ask Steve, is a tell of his. Steve has come to learn that his fiancé only ever pulls his bottom lip under his teeth when he's anxious or overwhelmed, both of which are very justifiable given the circumstances.

So, Steve does the same as he always does when Bucky needs to be comforted, he slowly makes his way over to the man and wraps his arms around him, Bucky immediately nestling his face into the crook of Steve's neck; his safe haven.

Maybe a very modest serenity, Bucky knows this, but Steve is the only one he can truly take security in, knowing the man will do everything in his power to protect him.

"You don't have to be worried anymore, Buck. I'll burn the whole world to the ground before anyone hurts you."

"It's you I worry about, Stevie. I mean, Christ. You stole an army-issue vehicle and then dumped it in a lake, just so you could come rescue my sorry ass."

"Your ass is a lot of things sugar; sorry isn't one of them."

The small laugh he gets in response is enough to make Steve smile once more, and it only grows impossibly bigger as Bucky pulls his head up to press a featherlight kiss to the blond's lips.

"I'm serious though, babydoll. We're gonna get through this. We just gotta keep fighting. You love that don't you, pulling me outta fights?"

Bucky laughs once again, keeping his face pressed close to Steve's, their foreheads held together as he buries his fingers in the tufts of golden blond hair above Steve's neck, Steve's strong arms holding their bodies almost as one.

"You're right. _That_ , I'm good at. This is just like when we were younger. Maybe even easier."

Steve raises an eyebrow at that, asking without words for his fiancé to explain himself.

"I used to sit at your bedside and watch you move mountains just to catch a breath, or hack away for hours, and I'd beg, Stevie. I'd fucking beg to whoever would listen to keep you alive. At least now, I can see who's trying to kill you, and never give them the chance."

Steve can't speak, can hardly breath or do any damn thing other than pull Bucky to him, and kiss him breathless.

"Were you boys planning on getting us at any point, or were you just gonna stand here and give the bastard a show when he finally woke up?"

They continue to hold close to one another even as Steve laughs and turns to answer the colonel, who is leading Tony and Sam into their makeshift interrogation room.

"We were gonna find you eventually, I swear."

The three men smirk knowingly as they take up stance in front of the tied down soldier, Sam stepping up to hand Rhodes the Sat phone they had kept after Agent Carter had contacted them.

"A Sharon Carter gave us a pretty unexpected call on our way here. She's pretty sure your boss is up to no good."

The name has Rhodey grabbing the phone in haste, dialing the number he has ingrained in memory after countless years coming to trust absolutely none of the snakes in the intelligence community other than one Sharon Carter, niece of the legendary Margaret "Peggy" Carter.

"Hello?"

The voice is just as he remembers, completely stoic, void of any of the fear it absolutely has every right to hold in that moment.

"Sharon, I am glad to hear your voice."

"You stole the words right out of my mouth, Colonel."

"What the Hell are we dealing with?"

She lingers in silence for a moment before answering, and although he knows that he's facing a harrowing odyssey; Sharon's hesitance is a sure sign that all has truly gone to Hell.

"Pierce and Senator Stern orchestrated this whole thing. Waverly was their test run for Extremis, and you, Ross, and the other two goons were just inconsequential in the whole scheme. Rollins still seems to be on his chain, and has orders to take you out, and the group you have with you. Director Fury is on our side, but that's only if Pierce doesn't kill him before I can get to him. Just, get yourself and those people out of Waverly, as soon as possible, Rhodey. When Rollins can't deliver on taking you down, I'm terrified to think what Pierce will try next."

He stands in stunned silence, the men around him waiting in apprehension for him to explain why his face is now so haunted.

"I'll have to call you back, babe. Duty calls."

With that, the line is dead, and Sharon's voice is gone. Her final words sending him into a panic, he now very much fears for the woman's safety.

A loud groan coming from the bastard that they have bound down shocks them all, and Rhodey has a fist full of his shirt in an instant.

"You've got twenty seconds before I start putting bullets in you. Where the Hell is Rollins, and how do we get out of town without him being any the wiser?"

The guy does exactly as expected; stays silent, and gives Rhodey the most depraved smirk the Colonel has ever seen. As he tips his head away from Rhodey, he smirks in contemptible pride at the emblem branded onto his skin.

"Hydra. Pierce collecting checks from domestic terrorists now, is he?"

"Я не склонились перед врагами, полковник."

The Colonel owl blinks a few times at the goon in front of him, before turning to the rest of the group with a look of sheer confusion.

"What.... What the Hell did he say?"

By this point, Clint and Natasha had entered the room, Bobbi, Maria, and Pepper opting to stay in the front of the house and keep watch.

"He said he doesn't bow to enemies."

Bucky moves closer to the goon, Steve staying pressed right behind him, and doesn't look away from the man even as he answers Rhodes. If he wants to play this game, then Bucky will play.

"это было не так , минуту назад."

Natasha suddenly laughs, winking at Bucky before she pulls from Clint's grasp and makes her way out of the parlor to the wash room.

Bucky's eyes follow her before the man begins speaking again, grabbing his attention.

"Я лояльных только для моего, капитан. я не согнуть таких людей, как ему."

He follows the thugs eyes back to Rhodes knowing full well that he's indicating racial slurs, before literally digging his nails so hard into his clenched fists that he draws blood, trying his hardest to refrain from punching the guy in the throat, and turning to bite back.

"Каким образом она неудобное положение для заднего передал вам сказку и чернокожий мужчина."

The bastard actually seems to flinch at that, staring daggers at Sam, who in turn, moves so Bucky is between him and the thug.

"What the Hell did you say to him,  
Barnes?"

"Don't worry, Sammy. Only good things."

Natasha finally makes her way back into the room, carrying a full glass of water, and she sends a wink Buck's way before taking stance in front of the soldier.

"Вы говорите по английски?"

The guy stares at her with complete disdain, eyeing all the others in the room, before facing Natasha and scoffing loudly, then speaking in a very thick accent.

"I will for a woman as beautiful as yourself."

"He'll do what for a woman as beautiful as you? Nat? Nat!?"

Natasha just waves off her husband, stepping closer to the man in front of her, and motioning for Rhodey and Sam to stand on either side of him. The accumulation of all the fear, anger, pain, and grief she's experienced in the span of only two days is terrifyingly and beautifully painted in her features, and the bound captive actually shies away as she moves toward him.

"I'm sure you're aware of what this virus of yours does to people. One of our own just bashed your friends skull in without even blinking an eye. So, let me make myself clear. Unless you want me to force this strain down your throat and put you on your deathbed, you'll answer my questions for me, got it?"

At this point, the guy has all but pissed himself, actually _trembling_ as Natasha just smirks down at him. Everyone else's faces are pretty much variations of the same theme.  
Sam and Rhodey are both gaping at her boldness, Clint looks like the proudest son-of-a-bitch on the planet, and Steve and Bucky are just smirking along with her. She raises an eyebrow at him, before turning to the two standing at attention next to him.

"Boys, since he won't do it himself, open his pretty little mouth for me."

"Wait!!! Wait! I'll tell you what you want to know."

"That's what I want to hear."

"Rollins ordered the civilians at the isolation zone to be shuttled out. Anyone still within the town's borders are to be considered infected and eradicated on the spot. We have specific orders to take out all of you. If we can't, Pierce is going to-"

The man's blood is painting Natasha red in an instant, a single shot to the back of his head silencing him permanently.

No one has even a second to process the scenario exploding around them, until Steve has the pistol he took off the soldier trained on Thor, who has the rifle from the other guy locked and loaded, sights now on Rhodes, who is also focusing his weapon on the deputy.

"Thor, put the gun down."

Experience is a brutal teacher, so Clint knows as he's voicing the command that Thor will not listen.

"I can't do that, Sheriff. No man in an army uniform can be trusted."

Tony moves to stand in front of Rhodey then, staring the deputy down.

"We can trust this one. Rhodey's trying to help us, Thor."

"AND A LOT OF GOOD THAT'S DONE!"

Everyone in the room flinches at the sudden outburst, Steve still aiming his sights on a man that just a few days before he considered one of only a handful of people he could trust his life with.

If the group had thought they'd seen insanity before, they were sorrowfully mistaken. Thor seems to be skirting the edge of an abyss, his eyes resonating the loss he suffered, and the vengeance he intends to exact.

Tony is unwavering, however. He remains planted firmly in front of his friend, silently challenging Thor to pull the trigger.

"If he hadn't come round here, no one would be hunting us right now, and JANE WOULDN'T BE DEAD RIGHT NOW. SO DON'T FUCKING TELL ME WE CAN TRUST HIM."

The blond is far too intent on keeping his sights trained on Rhodes, and doesn't notice Maria sneaking up behind him until she's wrestled the rifle from him, and thrown the stock into his nose. Once he's collapsed to the floor, trying to stop the cascading crimson, she turns the thing around, and backs away, never dropping the barrel from its aim on her friend.

"I'm sorry to have to do that."

The air in the room is defiantly taciturn, when just a few moments before, it seemed as if the Gates of Hell themselves were threatening to burst open.

Thor is still cupping his hand to his broken nose, seeming now so fragile and utterly ravaged by the nightmare that has become their lives, that Maria instantly lowers her weapon, causing Steve and Rhodey to follow suit.

"I'm sick, aren't I?"

Natasha guardedly steps toward the blond then, giving her husband a look as to quell his fear, before kneeling down and placing her hands on Thor's cheeks, pulling his face up so he can see the poignancy in her eyes, see the sympathy.

Thor smiles back at her as a single tear falls to frame his face.

"Can I..... Can I stay with you all a little while longer? I don't... I can't be alone right now."

In an instant, Clint moves to pull both his wife and friend to their feet, before wrapping Thor in a tight embrace, then stepping back to stare him directly in the eye.

"No one else is going to die in this house. When you go, it'll be on your own terms, among friends."

 

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of the morning goes on in stunted reticence, Thor keeping to himself, facing the reality of his impending demise.

Everyone tersely avoids the dining room, not wanting any reminder of the horrors the room will now forever echo.

In the midst of the near purgatory, Sam seeks out Maria, pulling her outside, away from everyone, one thing on his mind.

"Sam, we should be helping Nat and Bobbi find a change of clothes for everyone or helping with the old cruiser. We can't stay here too-"

Her words expire on her lips when the man wraps his arms around her, and crashes their lips together.

Taken by surprise at first, Maria quickly gains her composure, then kisses back with the same desperation and longing.

In a way, she can sense all the best aspects of Sam cascading outward while her lips are on his.

He isn't demanding, but gives enough force to take her breath away; the brunette deciding that she's never felt safer than here in this moment.

As they part, Maria can't do anything but rest her forehead against Sam's, relishing in his closeness, and the electricity moving between the two of them.

"A lot is uncertain right now. I wanted to make sure there weren't any wires crossed between us. I really like you, Hill."

She pulls away from him then, smirking as she makes her way back to the house. She stops at the threshold of the door, turning back to Sam and leveling him with a dazzling smile.

"So, for that date. Your place. I like Sangria and Pesto Aioli."

And then, she's disappeared back into the house, leaving Sam smiling like a fool.

 

* * *

 

 

"Natasha, Thor! Everyone is piled in the cruiser already. We've gotta get moving!"

Nat makes her way to the bottom of the stairs at the same time Thor steps out of the dining room, wanting to say one final goodbye to Jane before they left, possibly not to ever return to Waverly. Clint and his wife had been generous enough to find a clean change of clothes for those who needed it, and the rest of the group were now huddled together in the barn, waiting for the three to join.

Clint watches as Natasha lingers at the foot of the stairwell, breathing in the foundation of hope and love that they had built together, herself saying one final goodbye.

She turns to have her husband kiss her softly on the lips, earning a small smile and stray tear.

"I love you, Tasha."

"And I love you."

Thor moves to the window suddenly, cursing faintly before turning to his friends, a too familiar look of terror painting his features.

"We've got company."

The couple move to the window to see four more armed soldiers exiting an unmarked black sedan, sights trained on the house.

"We've gotta move. Now."

Thor just takes a hold of Clint's shoulder, holding him in place, knowing only one scenario will play out if they all try to flee to the barn.

"You two go, I'll keep their attention on me."

"Thor-"

"Clint, please. You said no one else is going to die in this house...... I'm already dead."

Not knowing what to say to that, Clint just takes a hold of his wife's hand, trying to grasp at what the implications of Thor's words would be.

"Please. Allow me the dignity of helping you all to escape this Hell. My times run out, Clint."

The Sheriff doesn't say a word, just nods back at his deputy, almost as a final order to one of his most loyal compatriots, before handing him the rifle from earlier.

Natasha moves quickly, pulling the blond down to place a kiss on his cheek, before giving him a tearful smile, and inclining her head to the dining room.

"Make her proud."

With that, Thor is taking up position in the front of the house while Natasha and Clint make a silent retreat out the back toward the barn.

 

* * *

 

 

As the final minutes of his life begin to play out in front of him, Thor allows his mind to wander.

He thinks of his brother, and how he'd have liked to reconcile his relationship with him before meeting his end. Thinks of his father, and how they were supposed to meet for lunch in the near future for the first time in ages and catch up on each other's lives.

Mostly, images of his mother and Jane dance on his mind's stage, the hope of seeing them after his final stand is over causing him to lift the rifle to the air, pulling the trigger, and alerting the intruders to his presence within the house.

All four merge on the front door, and in his periphery, the side window offers a glimpse of his friends slipping into the barn unnoticed, as he smiles a victorious smile, before taking a deep breath, and readying the stock of the rifle at his shoulder.

"Welcome to Waverly, bastards."

The words cut into the silence, and the blond has only a few moments to position himself in front of Jane's body, one final tear falling as he readies to enact his retribution.

The last thing the group huddled together in the cruiser hear is a symphony of gunfire as they make their way back out onto the lonely stretch of highway ahead of them.

 

* * *

 

 

An acute, fierce pain ripples through Sharon's head as her eyes slowly flutter open.

The room she's in is very dimly lit, seeming to sit at the back of the buildings armory, meaning she's completely at the whim of the Devil smiling execrably upon her.

Her movements are languid and strained, and she realizes in horror that she's been restrained, unable to even defend herself from Pierce.

The man looks as leisurely as ever, sitting with his legs crossed at a desk resting parallel to the blonde, hands cupped together on his lap.

"I'm surprised at you, Sharon. Margaret would be absolutely appalled at your lack of finesse in the covert."

She shivers as he leans in next to her ear, his serpent-like voice ghosting into the tense air of the room.

"You should have used a better cover then a coffee run."

She all but bites back, never wanting to hear the man say her Aunt's name again.

"She'd be putting a bullet in your skull right now you sick fuck."

And she believes it with every fiber of her being. Her Great Aunt never shied from here moral compass; Virtue, above brawn, wit, cunning. Virtue makes a good soldier. Peggy Carter was a damned good soldier.

And Sharon will be too. She promised Sheriff Barton that she'd see this through to the end, even it I killed her. If that be the case, well.

Her Aunt will be damn proud when they meet in Heaven.

"You're to be admired, young lady. Sadly, your stint in heroics ends here. I have far too much invested in Extremis."

"What paycheck is worth being signed in the blood of innocent people?"

The man doesn't deter his gaze, doesn't show a shred of remorse. It makes Sharon's blood run cold. The knowledge that she'd worked under this man for so long, and had absolutely no inkling into the evil he kept hidden behind curt smiles and orderly demeanor, causing tears to sting at her eyes.

"Hydra pays very well."

He then opens his palm to reveal the stolen hard drive that she had scoured from his office. Giving her the same grotesque smirk, he opens up his jacket, and places the device inside, before typing away a message on his phone.

"Why keep the hard drive? Those e-mails are a little incriminating, are they not?"

"Absolutely they are. You're well enough trained, Ms. Carter. A good espionage artist always measures leverage. I needed a fail-safe in the instance of Rollins and company failing to apprehend Rhodes. The servers the e-mails had been sent from would have been impossible to trace, meaning, the Senator from Iowa sitting with Director Fury right now posed the perfect framing. I simply could have said that he was in cahoots with the men inside Waverly, including Rhodes, and been heralded as a hero."

Sharon just shutters out another breath, sinking in upon herself, the weight of her predicament almost suffocating.

"Do me a favor?"

The statement has Pierce's brows rising, though he stays silent and allows Sharon to finish voicing her desire.

"When you kill me, and almost undoubtedly tell everyone I died at my own hand..... Tell them it's because I hated my fucking job."

 

* * *

 

 

The low hum of the engine coasting down the open road is the only sound heard between the group of ten.

The midday sun is high in the sky, though it's shining down onto a ghost town is a sight none of them take comfort in.

The chorus of gunshots that crescendoed as they escaped the Barton farmhouse still echoes on, the image of Jane's lifeless body haunting them all every time they close their eyes.

Rhodey is sitting shotgun, Clint at the wheel. Conversation between them had fallen away, both men staring out on the horizon, and their safety.

Behind them, the open back of the cruiser holds the rest of the refugees.  
Sam has an arm around Maria, occasionally rubbing a soothing hand up and down her arm, or kissing into her hair. Bobbi and Natasha are sitting directly behind the large front seat, arms linked. Next to them, Tony is resting with his head against the window, Pepper resting her head on his shoulder. Directly across from them, Steve also has his head resting against the window, Bucky with his back resting against the man's broad chest, his strong arms encasing the brunet.

"How about some tunes?"

Actually agreeing with Tony's sentiment, Rhodey turns the dial on the dashboard, the ancient thing crackling to life, and the beginning synth of a familiar eighties tune resonating into the vehicle.

_You and I in a little toy shop, buy a bag of balloons with the money we got..._

A small smile finds its way onto Tony's lips then, joining in with the vocals.

"Set them free at the break of dawn, 'til one by one they are gone."

Be it as provisional as it is, the song floating in the air around them is comforting, and soon, Sam and Nat have started to sing along with Tony.

"Back at base, bugs in the software, flash the message, somethings out there. Floating in the summer sky, 99 Red Balloons go by."

Then, the car fills with sounds of laughter, as Tony, Clint, and Sam all try to mimic the pulsating synthesizer that starts to drive the tune.

Bobbi and Maria are clapping along to their failed attempts at staying in rhythm and harmonizing, and for a moment, the scene actually feels like any other day among friends.

"Y'all know this song is about the end of the world, right?"

Steve reaches over then, punching Sam in the arm as his best friend gives him an indignant look.

"What!? It's true!"

Steve doesn't say anything, just points a thumb out the window.

"Punch buggy."

Both men have to let out a morbid laugh at the sight of an overturned red VW along the side of the road, abandoned.

"Let's play never have I ever!"

Everyone turns to Tony, who is vibrating like a child, Pepper moving away to allow him his excited convulsions, before placing a hand on his shoulder and leveling him with a questioning glance.

"Must you always be occupied with something?"

"Come on, Pep. We've been married long enough for you to know that I don't handle silence well. I'll start. Never have I ever....... Smoked pot."

Everyone freezes then, waiting for truths to be revealed.

To everyone's surprise, both Pepper and Rhodey as well as Steve put fingers down.

"Steve? What ever possessed you to roll a duby?"

Buck just reaches back and pats the blond on the cheek, taking Sam's question for him.

"He has a thing for immediately doing something if someone tells him not to."

Steve just blushes and hides his face in Bucky's hair while his friends get a good laugh, all except for Tony, who is looking at his wife and best friend with looks of utter betrayal.

"Don't look at me like that, Tony. We didn't invite you to all the parties."

She gives her husband a kiss on the cheek, before turning to everyone else, and giving a scenario of her own.

"Never have I ever been arrested."

Tony huffs in betrayal, placing a finger down, joined in company by again, Clint, and Maria as well.

"I used to get in trouble with the carnies. What did you in, Hill. And why didn't it show up on your record?"

A faint blush dusts her cheeks as she avoids her supervisors gaze. She had been planning on having this conversation anyway; might as well be today.

"I was twelve when I learned how to hot-wire cars."

She gives an evil smirk then, turning to Steve and Bucky before opening her mouth.

"Never have I ever kissed someone of the same sex."

They both give her a scathing look, each putting a finger down, and laughing as Tony, Clint, Sam, Natasha, and Bobbi all do the same.

"Holy shit. Alright. Stories, now."

Sam just rubs a hand over the back of his neck, avoiding Maria's amused look.

"It wasn't anything interesting. Riley and I got really drunk at a college party once and ended up making out. What about you two?"

Nat and Bobbi both smile, sharing a devious look before answering Sam.

"We both got ditched at senior prom. Nat's a really good kisser."

"слава Natalia."

Nat smiles at Bucky before turning to her husband.

"What about you, darling?"

Clint keeps his eyes on the road, but his smile is wide all the same.

"It was a stupid dare. Wade Wilson said that I didn't have the balls to kiss Peter Quill on the lips. I won ten bucks that day."

Tony snaps his fingers getting everyone's attention, the group all eyeing him warily.

"Well I kissed Justin Hammer one time. He was being annoying as Hell, so I planted one right on his lips, and he shut right the Hell up."

The group again fall into laughter, the confines of the cruiser seeming to be the most serene and safe place in all the world. For a moment, tranquility settles in, and the echoes of gunfire and images of blood and death are non-existent in their minds.

Suddenly, a helicopter zooms overhead, and everyone's eyes immediately follow it, the peace of a few seconds before shattering to pieces and falling out onto the empty stretch of road they left behind them.

"That's an Apache. One of ours."

Clint follows Rhodey's gaze toward the chopper, and decides that he doesn't want to wait around and hope that the thing doesn't turn back their way.

"Clint! The car wash!"

Natasha's words take a moment to register in his mind, but Rhodes points a hand off to the left of the road, and he sees what she was talking about, cutting the wheel so sharp he's afraid he might roll the damn thing, barreling into the building a second later.

"What are they doing with a damn attack helicopter?"

"Hunting me.... Hunting all of us."

Clint's mind freezes to a halt, the cacophony of voices around him all a droning white noise.

"We can't stay on the main road, we've gotta find a back road."

"What road can't they see, Pep? What magical fucking road can't they see!?"

"Tony, calm down. She's just trying to help."

"Just like you've been trying to help, Colonel? From where I'm sitting, that chopper is hunting us because of you."

"Sam. That's not fair. If it weren't for him, I'd still be trapped at the school."

A shrill scream from Pepper has everyone going silent, the woman pointing out the window into a dark corner of the building.

"Someone's out there!"

Their collective hearts have another immense shock when the assembly roars to life, and suds begin to cover the entirety of the car.

This leaves them blind to the group of bodies standing forebodingly at the entrance of the tunnel, waiting to strike.

"I think you should drive, sheriff."

"Colonel, I couldn't agree more."

Slamming on the gas with all the strength he can muster, the sound of the tires wailing in protest resonate throughout the building.

The car won't budge.

"I can't get any traction."

Steve and Rhodey both unholster their guns at the same time, training their eyes on the perimeter of the vehicle, the various moving contraptions of the conveyer making it near impossible to discern if any infected are indeed waiting for them.

The way in which the dim lights outside the car are dancing through the soap covered Windows paints a very ominous image to those trapped inside. Each shadow flashing through their periphery potentially being a demonized former neighbor or friend.

*CRASH*

Before anyone can react, the windshield and drivers side window are being smashed, and the monstrous faces of Aldrich Killian and Wilson Fisk are reaching in toward Clint and Rhodes respectively.

Fisk is able to handily take a hold of the Colonel's gun, the two struggling with it for a moment before it gets tossed off in the distance. Killian wastes no time grabbing for Clint's throat, the man fighting against the restraints of his seatbelt, trying to tear the vice-like hands from his windpipe.

Steve aims his gun for Killian's head, but stills in horror as he finds the magazine to be empty. His body moves before his mind thinks, and he's rolling over the hood of the car with Killian's head in a chokehold a second later.

The rear window is also broken open, and before Bucky can go diving after his fiancé, two more inhuman hands are reaching into the vehicle, pulling him with ease out into the madness of moving parts and flashing lights in the building.

He stumbles to his feet, and has just enough time to throw his metal hand up, grasping the blade that Darren Cross has careening toward his face.

He holds the blade in place, and throws his foot up into the man's stomach, kicking him away.

The guy is on his feet again very quickly, and as Bucky's focus is locked on him, Arnim Zola is able to start creeping up behind him.

"Bucky, move!"

The brunet dips out of the way as Sam flies out the back of the vehicle, tackling Zola to the ground, then rolling out of the way as Cross throws a heavy boot down, crushing against Zola's skull where just a second before, Sam's head would have been.

Bucky moves to aid his friend, but Will Simpson jumps in front of him before he has the chance. The man is almost identical in build and stature to his fiancé, and Bucky knows that this won't be an easy fight.

Back in the front of the vehicle, Steve is still rolling around on the ground with Killian, the man much stronger than his appearance would suggest.

He's draining far more energy than he'd like, struggling to keep the maniac on top of him at bay.

Seeing an opportunity and having only now seconds to act on it, he uses his feet to turn their bodies to lie parallel to the hood of the car, before throwing Killian off to his right side.

The man tries to grab for Steve once again, but the sounds of every bone is his body beginning to snap fill the deputies ears as the cruiser rolls over his attacker; he himself lying flat on his back as the vehicle passes over him.

Back inside the thing, Natasha screams in pain as Dottie Underwood reaches in and pulls her by her hair out of the vehicle. At the same time, a piercing sound of metal crashing through metal booms in the car, and Pepper once again screams in horror as her eyes fall upon the large iron rod that had been thrust through the side of the car, and ultimately, right through Tony's abdomen.

Maria pulls Pepper's head down out of the way as Jack Thompson tries to jam another one into her skull, then grabs the same rod, using all her strength to push it back, straight into the man's chest.

Bobbi allows Maria to tend to Tony as she dives out of the car, lunging at Dottie, who has a blade raised to Natasha's throat.

Bobbi punches the woman in the face, and Nat takes the opportunity to slip from her grasp, falling to her knees, gasping for air.

Clint sees the exchange, and with the help from a sudden jolt of adrenaline, busts open his seatbelt and door, falling to the ground in front of his wife, just as Dottie kicks Bobbi back into the side of the car.

The sheriff stands to his feet, throwing an open palm in Bobbi's path, the blade the woman had been sporting cutting a perfect incision straight through his hand.

He howls in pain, but doesn't miss Dottie going for Bobbi again, quickly reaching up and back-handing the exposed blade across the blonde's face, her body falling to the concrete lifeless once he's finished.

Inside the vehicle, Rhodes finally grabs a hold of the bald bastard's head, slamming it repeatedly into the dashboard, before slipping down in his seat, and kicking the man in the throat. He follows the guy over the hood and onto the conveyer, one more kick snapping the man's neck.

Once again behind the vehicle, Cross and Simpson are incredibly menacing, bearing down on Sam and Bucky relentlessly.

Cross's blows are packed with superhuman strength, and one lucky blow lands across Sam's face, disorienting him long enough for his attacker to tackle him to the pavement, hands grasping at his throat.

Simultaneously, Simpson has pulled a large trail knife on Bucky, and all the brunet can do is dodge each swing, keeping his feet planted on the ground and focus locked on the man in front of him.

One swing aimed right at his face has him backing up against the wall, and rolling his shoulder just in time to have the blade come down and impale his metal prosthetic, the wiring connecting to his nerve endings blinding him with pain as he screams out in agony.

Like the Godsend that he is, Steve pulls himself fully from underneath the vehicle once it's rolled over him, and springs to his feet. He meets Bucky's eyes, who uses the leverage of Simpson's hold on him to jump up and throw both feet into the man's stomach, sending him staggering back toward Steve, who grabs his head, and slams it into the tailgate of the car, before turning on Cross and kicking him off of Sam. The bastard tries to come for them again, but Bucky pulls the blade from his shoulder far quicker, and throws it almost perfectly into the guy's forehead.

Steve helps Sam to his feet, making sure he is uninjured, then is at Bucky's side in an instant. The roles have been reversed, as Steve is expertly coddling Bucky to the brink of insanity.

"TONY.... OH GOD, TONY, NO."

"Stay with me, Stark. You've come too far to go out like this."

The sight inside the vehicle has time ceasing, everyone quiescent, transfixed, unwilling to accept that another one of theirs is dying in front of them.

Tony just pulls Pepper closer, and places a soft kiss on her forehead.

"I'm so sorry, Pep."

"Don't you dare do this, Tony."

"Pepper, keep pressure on his abdomen."

"Hill, get your filthy paws off me."

"Glad to see you've still got your sense of humor."

As the conveyer dulls back into quietude, it's as if the only sound in the world is Tony's heartbeat, gradually becoming softer and softer.

"I love you, Pepper. So much. So so much."

"You'll have time to tell me later, darling."

"Pepper, keep your hands pressed there. He's bleeding far too much."

Clint's got a firm hold on his wife, the spray of water from the ceiling raining down on the group. Sam has moved to check on Bobbi, who has her back turned to the scene in the car. Rhodey is just standing in shock, not able to fathom his best friend dying before his eyes. Steve's got Bucky pressed to his chest, running a soothing hand through his long strands of brown hair.

"I refuse to work for any other mayor, God dammit. Keep your eyes open Tony."

The cruiser pops off the assembly, before rolling a few feet further, the bright rays of sun beaming down from Heaven above calling the dying man home.

"Public approval was bombing...... Chemical disasters are bad for business, Hill."

Even with his life draining, Tony's still got the same teasing whimsicality to his voice.

Pepper's tears are all-consuming, burying her face into Tony's neck, praying to whomever may be listening,

_Don't take him. Please._

A blinding streak of fire rains from the sky, and in a heartbeat, the cruiser is obliterated in flames, Maria, Pepper, and Tony gone with it.

An army attack helicopter flies off into the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the translations to the Russian words and phrases in the order they appear.
> 
> 1) beloved  
> 2) I do not bow to enemies  
> 3) That was not the case a few moments ago  
> 4) I'm loyal only to my cause. I do not bend to men such as these.  
> 5) How embarrassing it is that you had your ass handed to you by a black man and a fairy (queer).  
> 6) Do you speak English  
> 7) kudos


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything comes to an end....

_"Alright, I've got your six. Let's move."_

_Khalid Khandil had proven to be quite a task to track. Every time the supervisor of Sam's unit thought that they'd gotten close, he'd orchestrate an attack on a crowded marketplace or business district or a guerrilla attack on a government building, sending the men off in one-hundred different directions, and making his getaway._

_"Ground floor is clear. Move in."_

_A day before, they'd snatched the man's brother, who with a little persuasion by means of US sanctioned immunity, sang a beautiful tune of his criminal sibling's whereabouts, leading Sam and the rest of his unit to the complex they are currently raiding._

_Up ahead of him, Riley is in the same position he's been in since they were ten years old. He's always jumped headlong into terrifying situations, Sam following close behind, watching his back._

_This would more than likely be their final op together; Khalid being the very man they had been tasked with ascertaining when they'd first ascended the ranks of the army._

_Riley's wife had called just three days earlier, saying that they'd be having a baby girl, and he'd have to hurry home to pick out a name._

_To say that Sam was excited for his best friend would have been the understatement of the century, knowing the man would make a perfect father to his future daughter._

_"Top floor clear."_

_At Riley's words, Sam's thoughts are drawn back into the task at hand, as he follows his friend out of the tight stairwell they'd been descending into a large open room, floor to ceiling windows cascading moonlight into the building._

_"Made..... Hostile.... Fall Ba....."_

_The most blinding white light envelops the room preceding the broken transmission, and Sam's knocked completely off his feet as the entire complex shakes._

_It's all not nearly enough to pull Sam from his irrevocable front seat witnessing of Riley being taken in the blink of an eye._

"Sam! Sam, stop, please!"

This voice is new. Familiar, and safe in a way, but not Riley's.

Flames and heat are all around still, this time emanating from a police cruiser a few feet away.

The guttural sting of loss hits him just as hard the second time, and he collapses to his knees, Steve falling down to meet him, placing strong hands on his shoulders.

"Fuck! Steve! I....I, I... I couldn't..."

Steve doesn't say a word, just pulls Sam's face to rest on his shoulder, letting the man choke out the sobs he'd been holding in through his flashback.

A few feet away, Rhodey can't do anything but stare on in disbelief at the mangled pile of metal consumed in fire, his best friend's voice now dead in the air around him.

He knows he should see red, all-consuming anger. Knows he should want to march until he's found Rollins and his men, and kill them all slowly and intimately, then hand-deliver their corpses to Alexander Pierce before doing the same to him.

But he doesn't feel a thing.

Not a damn thing.

Wherever his emotion and volition used to lie has been so absolutely gutted, he thinks in that moment, standing under the steady spray of the wash, that he'll never feel a damn thing again.

The other four seem only there to witness the nightmare, Bucky holding Bobbi close, both far too hollow to truly process any more loss.

Clint has a far away expression on his face, seeing in grotesque detail the burning vehicle in front of him; smelling death in the air, but not processing any of it.

Natasha is somehow able to keep her emotions reigned in enough to tear at the fabric of her husband's jacket, using it to patch up the knife wound on his hand. With each unsteady breath, she feels as if she's skirting closer and closer to the abyss of an attack, and she's determined to stay strong in the moment.

She's tries not to think on the fact that the satellite phone; their only way of keeping in touch with Agent Carter, had been in the cruiser when it was obliterated.

Though her mind has been bombarded with so many sights she'll never un-see, her grip on reality is enough that the black SUV heading at alarming speed in their direction doesn't pass her attention.

"Guys. We've gotta move."

She turns in horror to see Rhodes going for the pistol he'd lost in his struggle with Fisk, no doubt looking to avenge his best friend.

"Jim, don't!"

The Colonel doesn't acknowledge her words in the slightest, rather, continues walking toward the gun, his face schooled to an expression of deadly intent.

"Colonel, please. We need to go."

"Can't do that, ma'am."

She surprises herself by jumping to her feet, and throwing Rhodey up against the wall, everyone (including Rhodes himself) just as shocked. Nat doesn't relent on her grasp, pleading with wild eyes.

"You won't be any help to him if you're dead."

By this point, Bucky and Steve have moved with Bobbi and Sam to the far end of the building, her husband waiting behind for her and the Colonel.

With every beat of their hearts, the vehicle gets closer and closer, and Nat has half a mind to knock Rhodes unconscious and have Clint carry him out.

"I........"

He gives one final gaze over the carnage that was supposed to be their ticket to salvation, knowing that Tony wouldn't stay here and die in a blaze of misplaced glory. So, he says one final silent farewell, and nods toward Natasha, before they all make their escape.

 

* * *

 

 

"CAN YOU IDENTIFY THE BODIES OR NOT!?"

Rollins has a vice-like grip on the trembling soldier in front of him, eyes ablaze with anger over what is most likely another failed attempt at eliminating Rhodes.

"No.... No I can't. The most I can tell you is that there are two females and one male."

Rollins throws the man to the ground before stalking his way to stand in the center of the small group of men under his order.

"We have to assume that Colonel Rhodes is indeed still en route out of town. I needn't remind you all of the nuke Representative Pierce has locked and loaded if we haven't completed our task by nightfall. Move out."

Everyone of them pops a perfect salute to their commanding officer, the man marching back toward the SUV, radioing in to Pierce on his (lack of) progress.

"Hail Hydra."

 

* * *

 

 

"Typically all parties remain in the situation room until the situation has been resolved."

If it weren't for the blatant roll of eyes, Fury would have been certain that the Senator had not heard his words.

He just throws his arms up in surrender, sinking back into his seat in the process.

"But what do I know?"

Stern has been pacing the room for what feels like an eternity, the same smarmy and repugnant curve of lips plastered on his face.

Pierce and Carter have been gone for an alarming amount of time, and the Director is trying desperately to block the gruesome images of what their absence could entail.

The representative had lost his trust almost twenty years earlier, after a series of questionable proceedings had resulted in the loss of thirteen of his agents, all young with families they left behind.

Extremis would be a new level of evil for the man, but not one Fury thinks he's not capable of.

He's also never liked Stern. For no other reason than he just really doesn't like him.

He's also the type that has more than likely covered up corruption and tax evasion for himself and his wealthy friends, while the poor of Iowa get woefully poorer.

"Awfully fortuitous, all this happening just before your Senate bid, isn't it?"

For the first time all morning, the weasel actually makes a show of reacting to the Director, whipping around and leveling him with a glare.

"I hope that you're not insinuating that I plan to use such a tragedy for personal gain."

"Not insinuating a thing, just making an observation."

Stern doesn't seem pleased with the answer, but also doesn't raise any further argument; instead turning to pace the floor once again.

"Not even two-thousand people in Waverly. The rest of the world will scarcely know it's gone."

Stern clenches his fists and moves to slam one on the table, face flush with anger, glaring with intensity that Fury wasn't aware he was capable of conveying.

"Please don't dance around your words, Nick. Tell me exactly what you want to say."

The director doesn't flinch, doesn't betray a single emotion as he holds the Senator's gaze, hands flat on the table in front of him.

He's got the man right where he wants him.

Stern, to his credit, doesn't relent in his stare, face still shining with anger.

Then, the man's phone screen lights up with a text notification, startling both men.

Fury looks to the screen before the Senator can take it, reading the message over quickly, overwhelmed but not surprised by what it says.

_"I have Agent Carter. Keep Fury occupied until I can come take care of him myself."_

Bingo.

Stern's face finally reveals the character of the man underneath, pale and frightened and guilty and evil, as he ever so slightly shies away from the Director.

"Let's not jump to conclusions, Nick."

He suddenly grabs a hand under the table, pulling out a handgun, aiming it right between Fury's eyes.

"You ever hear the proverb, lying lips are an abomination, Senator?"

"Not too big on the bible, actually. I haven't prospered in Washington for twenty years by breaking bread with the least of us."

Stern quirks his lips in a challenging smirk, reveling in having complete control of the situation.

Or so he thinks.

"I'll tell your wife you died doing what you love. Being a pain in my a-"

Fury takes advantage of the quip to level his feet firmly on the floor, grabbing the table in both his hands, and throwing it forward into Stern. He loses his balance almost immediately, dropping the weapon as he careens toward the wall, slamming against the plaster.

Fury throws the table out of the way, kicking the man in the face as he tries to reach for the gun once again, before kicking it across the room.

Stern staggers back against the wall, and Fury grabs his neck in both hands, slamming his head against the hard surface once again.

"I'm gonna kill you!"

"Yeah, no... No, I've got two years until I retire. I'm not dying today."

One good punch is all it takes to have the bastard on the floor, and the Director makes quick work of holstering his gun and tying him down.

A quick scan through the Senator's phone is enough for Fury to decipher his texting style, and he sends a message back to Pierce, hoping the man won't suspect a thing.

His only task now is finding the bastard before he has a chance to do any more harm to Waverly or Agent Carter.

Taking a deep breath, he schools his features, and steps out of the situation room and into the fray of the building, making sure no eyes are on him as he makes his way to the nearest fire alarm and pulling it, immediately sending the building into a panic.

Amongst the madness, he continues on his way, praying that he can get to Sharon in time to save her life.

 

* * *

 

 

_Oh won't you take me, from this valley. To that mountain high above._

In what feels like an eternity later, the remaining seven finally arrive at the truck depot, the song on the speakers cascading throughout the empty complex, setting a tone of unease even here, where they will at last make their escape from this Hell.

This is not the scene Clint had found himself in the night before. There were emotional reunions, frightened parents, and even more frightened children. It was chaos. It was panic.

Now, just like the rest of their hometown, it's empty. A harrowing reminder of the sins of the government sworn to protect against terrors exactly like this.

"This place was Grand Central last night."

No one responds; nothing needing to be said. The best they can do is follow the lead of the rest of the residents, and make their way out of town, then finally mourn their lost ones properly.

"I'll try to find a vehicle for us."

Sam attempts a smile, but it's not hard for any of the others to see that it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"I'll go with you."

Bobbi just places a hand on his shoulder, and begins following him off on his search.

Rhodey doesn't say anything, but starts following the two as well. The man had been so stoic and unbreakable since the first morning in Nat's office. Seeing him so haunted now makes the rest of the group fight against a feeling of hopelessness.

As soon as they have entered the building, Natasha immediately begins dragging Clint away from Steve and Bucky.

"I'm gonna find a bathroom to wash up his hand in. You two find some food."

 

* * *

 

 

_"I don't even know how you manage these things."_

_Clint just dipped his head away from his wife, avoiding her teasing gaze as she bandaged his freshly wounded hand; the man having been 'bested' by the crib he had been assembling._

_With his pride at stake, he'd promptly tossed the thousand page instruction manual, telling Nat that it couldn't be *that* hard._

_His bleeding hand was testament that experience should have taught him well, but hadn't._

_"It's a lot harder than it looks, babe."_

_As she puts the finishing touches on the dressing, she leans forward and places a soft kiss on her husband's cheek._

_"That's what the manual was for."_

-

Clint doesn't realize how lost in memory he'd become until the first tug of gauze wrapping around his hand pulls him back into the present moment.

Nat is staunchly quiet, staying focused on her task, and he lapses into the recesses of his mind once again.

He thinks of Thor and Maria, how they'd been so young, so much life left to live. Thinks of the promise he'd made the morning Rhodes showed up to protect his wife and friends.

He's done one Hell of a job.

"We haven't picked any names yet."

Natasha's words take a moment to register, but a small smile snakes its way to his lips when they do.

"We don't even know if it's a boy or a girl yet."

Nat doesn't look up from her work, but the slight smirk she gives him is enough to make their current situation seem like any other quiet moment the couple would share.

"That's why we decide on a name for a girl and a name for a boy. It's called being prepared, sweetheart."

He rolls his eyes, though he's far from annoyed.

If he's being honest, Maria and Thor immediately come to mind as he thinks of potential names for their unborn child. The namesake seems a small step in forgiving himself and the universe for what happened to his friends, but his child shouldn't bare the weight of being named after his dead comrades.

Nathaniel.

He's always liked the name Nathaniel.

"I like it too."

He hadn't realized he said the name out loud, but is overjoyed at the smile Nat is giving him.

His body takes over for his mess of a mind, and he places a hand on Nat's stomach, rubbing small circles and reaching up to cup her face and pull her into a kiss with his other.

"What about a name for a girl?"

They sit close together on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, foreheads pressed close, breathing in the same air as the aroma of grilling burgers fills the space around them.

They both laugh as Clint's stomach chooses that moment to growl loudly.

"Let's eat first. Then we can swap ideas."

 

* * *

 

 

The barrel of Pierce's gun digging into her back is a harsh reminder of Sharon's predicament. Going up against the man had been harrowing, no doubt, so a scenario such as this playing out has plagued her thoughts ever since Fury had alerted her of his treason.

That's not what has the blonde marching to whatever end the Representative has in mind for her in poignant silence, however.

Tony, and his wife, and the life they have in that town cross her mind. Rhodey, and her promise to do everything she possibly could to help him help those people. Innocent people, and she'd failed them.

"Your Aunt ever tell you what went down in Colombia in '78?"

Pierce's words cut through the fog of grief surrounding Sharon's mind, and the woman can't seem to help but flinch, having grown used to the silence that had settled in between them since Pierce untied her and started making her march, aiming his gun at her back.

The thing is, her Aunt Peggy never told any stories about her line of work. She'd talk about the time she spent with the Strategic Scientific Reserve and the help that the organization offered to the U.S. military, but everything that happened during her time with the Homeland Division was kept tucked away in old file folders and three-ring binders behind storage units filled with Christmas decorations in the attic at the home she and Sharon's Aunt Angie shared. The woman taught Sharon to be a strong and independent young lady without turning her into a soldier made to follow orders. Sharon had joined the CIA of her own volition, the drive of wanting to make a difference fueling her spirit.

"Afraid not."

Pierce stays silent for a moment, and Sharon is able to entertain ideas of exactly what he has planned for her. She knows he isn't dull enough to shoot her; it would be too hard to explain away.

"I was young, just like yourself. Had the opportunity to take down one of the most prolific drug cartels in the Western Hemisphere, so I jumped at the opportunity. The op was simple; we were to infiltrate their ranks, find the key players, and lock them away. What my supervisors weren't prepared for was the massive amounts of munition and bio-weaponry we stumbled upon when we got there. They had children and women alike, packing explosives powerful enough to completely level New York into produce shipping crates. The operation had to be shut down, obviously, so I followed my orders."

And he let the statement hang in the air between them for a beat too long, making Sharon go rigid. She could pretty much assess the ending of the story, and certainly didn't like it at all.

"I hope you can agree that as gruesome an image as it is, we did what had to be done to protect our countries own interests and people. We make difficult decisions in this business, Agent Carter. Hydra may seem like a ruthless organization to you, but the funding they've done on closed door tactics under my guidance are going to be the only thing defending our country one day."

A humorless laugh bursts through her lips at the words, and she can feel Pierce press his gun further into her back as she does it.

"I'm sure the people of Waverly will be lining up to kiss the ground you walk on."

Pierce chuckles languidly at the quip, and Sharon, try as she may to fight it, feels tears begin to sting her eyes. She'd been working for a sociopath for years now, and now he's going to take not only her life, but Lord knows how many others in his misplaced quest to make a better world with help from a bunch of terrorist zealots.

"I'm sorry we can't agree on this sweetheart."

They make their way through a myriad of corridors, eventually coming upon a large set of metal doors opening up into a large stairwell, wrapping around all forty floors of the building, themselves being a good twenty stories up.

"I ran to try and stop her, but Ms. Carter jumped long before I ever had a chance."

Each word echoes in the large open space, as Sharon clings onto the hope that she'll be given an opening to draw Pierce's attention long enough to disarm him and save herself.

"The workload was too heavy. The poor girl couldn't juggle the responsibilities of juggling her career and her own personal relationships, and fell easily into depression. I only wish we had noticed sooner."

"You sure know how to sell a story, Representative."

The man once again beams an evil smile, marching Sharon closer and closer to the twenty-story drop.

"Even the bible is just a collection of stories, dear-"

As her body gently hits the railing, Sharon realizes she's reached the end of the line, and the open stairwell might as well be an abyss. She can't help but stare, accepting her fate.

"Go ahead and climb over."

It's an almost out of body experience, her own arms and legs helping to lift her over the metal bars, and take purchase on the small overhang of tile on the other side.

The sound of a fire alarm suddenly blaring causes her to nearly jump out of her skin, and combined with the sudden spray of the ceiling sprinklers, she feels herself losing her footing.

 

* * *

 

 

_"Buck, keep your eyes closed!"_

_"They are closed!"_

_.........._

_"Bucky...."_

_"Fine."_

_How Steve, from his place in the on suite, is even able to tell that Bucky's peeking an eye through his fingers is beyond him, so Bucky just huffs in defeat, and closes his hands fully over his stormy blue orbs._

_Bucky had used every trick in the book to coax his boyfriend straight to bed after he left to run a few errands, wearing Steve's favorite warn out flannel (and nothing else) which was two sizes too big for his body, the metal of his prosthetic making the left sleeve fall down off his shoulder. He'd even deigned to playing around a bit with a vibrator once he got a text from the blond saying he'd be home soon, usually hating that they pale in comparison to the real thing._

_Steve however, had other plans, and retreated to the bathroom as soon as he set foot in the apartment, saying he had a surprise._

_The last time Steve had a 'surprise', Bucky had to work two extra shifts a week for almost a month to help pay for a new oven after Steve turned Lasagna and Sangria bread into opening every window in their duplex and turning on every fan into the late hours of night, trying to clear the lingering smoke._

_He's been resigned to chopping veggies and grilling on occasion ever since._

_"Are your eyes still closed?"_

_..........._

_"Buck."_

_"Yes, yes. Jesus."_

_The door to the bathroom is slowly opened, and Bucky fights the urge to peek as Steve moves to stand just a few inches from the foot of the bed._

_"Alright. Go ahead and look."_

_Bucky's breath catches in his throat as he takes in the sight in front of him. Steve had been coming home in sweaty NYPD tees from the academy and joggers for so long, that seeing him now in a sleek black NYPD uniform, every last muscle threatening to burst from the tight shirt is like an oasis on the horizon of the Sahara._

_"Stevie...."_

_The guy in all his mirth and usual swagger, dips his head and blushes back at his boyfriend._

_"It's official now, baby. This is the first step in the rest of our lives together. I can buy you your dream house and an actual car so I don't have to drop you off to work every morning on the Harley-"_

_And Bucky's eyes betray him, as tears begin to cloud the beautiful sight in front of him._

_"And maybe one day, we can start a family together."_

_"Yes. Fucking Hell, yes."_

_He's wrapped up in Steve's embrace a moment later, spinning around the room, before their lips meet in a sweet kiss that very quickly turns hungry and dirty._

_And then he's being tossed back into the bed, Steve smiling that crooked, breathtaking smile back at him, looking so very debonair in his uniform. He raises his brow and plasters an authoritative (incredibly sexy) stare on his face._

_"Sir, are you aware that it's a crime here in the state of New York to be so damn sexy?"_

_And it's sweet, but Bucky's clutching at his stomach, chuckling at his boyfriend who's now got his brow raised and arms crossed over his chest._

_"Oh my God..... C'mere you dork."_

_And another tender kiss is placed to Bucky's lips as he finds himself in the safest place in the world, lying underneath Steve._

_"I love you."_

_"And I love you."_

_Not many more coherent thoughts are voiced after that, Steve pinning his giggling boyfriend to the mattress. The uniform is going to pose a problem, or so Bucky thinks, until Steve turns him onto his stomach, grabs his ass in his big hands, and brings him to a climax with nothing but his mouth._

-

Steve has been uncharacteristically stoic since he'd found the frozen patties about ten minutes ago, grilling the burgers in silence as Bucky just sits on a barstool on the other side of the counter, arms wrapped around himself, staring back at his fiancé.

He'd in true form looked over Bucky's bandaging and checked to make sure no significant damage had been done to his prosthetic from Simpson's attack, then kissed the brunet on the forehead and went off in search of the food.

No matter what has happened in the recent days, Bucky will be damned if he lets it drive this wedge between himself and Steve.

"You remember Daisy Johnson?"

Steve barks out a laugh before turning and raising a brow at his other half.

"Remember her? I was convinced I was gonna drop outta high-school and marry the girl."

Bucky just laughs back at the words, remembering the misplaced resentment he held for a girl who was actually very sweet and good to Steve.

"I hated that poor girl so much, Stevie. I used to be so jealous of her. I was prepared to be your side piece in a heartbeat if you asked."

They both are laughing at this point, and Bucky actually feels himself relax for the first time in what feels like a lifetime. Steve reaches across the counter to take Bucky's hand as his attention stays focused on the grill in front of him, and Bucky smiles absentmindedly as Steve begins to rub small circles over his knuckles.

"That's how I felt about Mike Peterson. You, of course, got your first boyfriend while I was still a scrawny sophomore, and he was a senior. I felt so damn emasculated whenever you would invite him to hang out with us."

Bucky's expression grows soft once more, remembering the way Steve used to walk a bit taller and push himself a bit harder whenever he'd tag along to the mall or the movies, Mike with an arm wrapped around Bucky's waist.

"He never had a thing on you, baby."

Steve's smile is like the sun, and Bucky can't help but bask in the warmth.

"You want cheese on your burger?"

"Duh."

Steve pulls Bucky's hand to his lips and gives it a kiss before setting down the spatula he'd been holding and moving toward the galley doors leading into the kitchen.

"I'll be right back."

As Bucky watches the retreating form pass into the kitchen, he moves to take Steve's place behind the grill, tending to the burgers. The new position leaves him with his back turned to the dark figure staring his way from the glass outside the building.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam remembers going to see 28 Days Later with Riley when it first hit theaters and not being able to fathom such unparalleled silence and extinction.

Looking around the empty lots of the depot however, he feels as if the movie maybe didn't do enough justice to the all-consuming quiet.

As expected, the few vehicles he, Bobbi, and Rhodes had come across all had slashed tires or boots, and the communication block was still lingering, meaning absolutely no means of contact with anyone outside the barriers of the quarantine zone.

The silence of the lot around him is such a stark contrast to the panic and chaos that he'd stumbled upon just the day before when he and Maria-

And if that doesn't cut into him like a knife to the gut.

What a cruel bastard this life is that he lost his closest friend and first real love interest in years in almost identical fashion while he could do nothing but witness.

He chances a look Bobbi's way, and is met with her blank gaze scanning over the useless vehicles in the lot.

Rhodes doesn't look any better, a fire still raging behind the matching lifeless expression painting his face. And here he thought the worst of America's threats died with Khalid in the Middle East, taking his best friend with them. Never did he think that the very country he lost so much of himself for, still wakes up screaming in horror from the nightmares of his time serving, would be the reason he's just lost even more friends.

"This van looks intact."

Sam follows Rhodey's gaze, and sure enough, he's met with a large black commercial van, all four tires seeming full of air. As the Colonel steps ahead to check the engine, he pulls the side doors open, and is met with a wall of screens. Simultaneously looking upon the empty school, church, village green, grocery store. The operation had eyes almost everywhere in Waverly, and though he's not surprised, a chill still envelops Sam's body realizing that they truly had been the stars of a horror film.

A smaller screen has a file attached, and Sam reaches down to the laptop sitting on the small leather seat on the passenger side of the van, accessing the file and opening it.

The names Lance Hunter, Johann Fennhoff, and Jeri Hogarth among others, all friends and neighbors he's known for years, immediately catch his attention and he scrolls down the page to find an attached e-mail, sent from Rollins to none other than the very senator for the great state of Iowa.

_Senator Stern,_

_All parties have agreed to a lump sum of thirty-million. A ghost account has already been set up in the Cayman Islands, and the capitol will be transferred in small increments over a span of ten years. The pretense will be for psychological and physical trauma suffered during the events of the Pym factory of Waverly's explosion and subsequent destruction of said town. Ross was not able to ascertain a cure further than a medically-induced coma, which leads me to believe our enemies will not stand any hope in finding a cure themselves. I believe our weapon will be quite effective._

_Agent Rollins_

Sam has to grab a hold of the sides of the van walls to steady himself, feeling bile threatening to rise to his lips. People he saw everyday, people he called neighbor and friend, all took a payoff while the rest of their hometown was massacred. Fucking Hunter, who he was just playing pool and drinking with a week before, ran out of town with a check signed by Stern while his wife was left to die.

As he staggers back from the vehicle he takes notice of Rhodey standing over Bobbi, who's on her knees in front of a row of the same vehicles that shuttled everyone out of town, holding a handful of something he can't discern.

Fighting the dread pooling in his stomach, he slowly makes his way over to crouch down in front of the blonde, lightly cupping her cheek and making their eyes meet.

Then, in a barrage of small metallic clinks, a handful of empty shell casings fall from her now open palm. It's then that he takes notice of the stench hanging in the air and turns his head to see the aftermaths of the governments efforts to silence Waverly for eternity.

"They put the communication block on the town so no one could call for help, told everyone a gas leak was the reason they were being ripped from their homes and shuttled out here like cattle, and now they're going to fake a factory explosion to cover this up."

Sam had already gathered the magnitude of the situation by that point, but Rhodes laying it out to the letter still makes his blood turn to ice.

And up until this point, even after watching Maria get taken away in a blast of fire, he hadn't lost hope on escaping this Hell. But standing here, even the Colonel looking ready to collapse to his knees and accept his fate, Sam thinks that his time has run out. It takes all his strength to pull Bobbi up off the ground and just take her hand in his.

"It's over. They win. They've taken everything. They won."

Bobbi, much to Sam's surprise, doesn't yell or pull away, just turns to him and very softly speaks.

"You wanna sit here and die, tell me. I'll sit here and die with you."

Maria wouldn't.

Riley wouldn't.

He knows with an absolute certainty that they'd soldier on. It's in their blood. It's why Sam loved them both so much.

He looks at Bobbi; thinks of the one person that she should have felt safe with, leaving her to die for a couple million dollars. She's standing here, after desperately fighting for her life for days, willing to sit down and give up completely if Sam so desires.

And he doesn't.

"Not today."

The sound of feet approaching and Rollins familiar voice snap them out of the horror in front of them, and Sam's met with a firm hand on his shoulder, and Rhodes giving him a look he used to see far too often on the men he lost back at war.

"You two get the others and get out of here. I'm the one he wants. Take that laptop and drop it off on the Whitehouse doorstep. Tell President Ellis it was an honor serving for him."

Sam holds the Colonel's gaze, and all he can do is pop a salute before grabbing Bobbi's hand and taking off toward the building.

 

* * *

 

 

Sharon has a brief moment where she knows with an absolute certainty that she is going to die, staring down at the massive drop below her.

For all the acceptance she'd had for her fate up to this very second, the piercing fear that courses through her body is like the force of lightning rendering her paralyzed.

A voice that she can only assume is her aunts screams through the panic taking root in her head and tells her that now is not the time to give up, and she reaches back in time to take hold of the railing behind her and stop herself from falling.

Using the momentum and spike of adrenaline, she's able to catapult herself back over the railing to the solid slab of floor on the other side, which brings her face to face with Pierce, who is looking just as shocked by the blaring sirens and raining sprinklers as she is.

She's able to smack his gun across the floor.

Then, just as quickly, he's lunging at her.

His experience as a field agent and hand-to-hand combatant are terrifyingly displayed as Sharon struggles to fend off his attack on the slippery tile beneath her feet.

_"Chin up, Sharon. These men are going to be twice your size, you'll need to use their weight against them."_

She's able to plant her feet and throw a firm kick into Pierce's chest, making the man stagger backward, as she moves to throw a punch.

He moves shockingly quickly and takes a hold of Sharon's fist, then uses his leg to knock her off her feet. And before she can defend herself, he's got both hands wrapped around her throat.

"Time's up, dear."

His words are hardly past his lips before she's throwing a knee up into his groin, and tossing him aside as he succumbs to the blow.

As she slides across the now soaking wet floor, gun in sight, he's got his hand fisted into her hair, pulling her to her feet.

Then, acting on nothing but the sheer will to survive, she kicks back with her feet, once again causing Pierce to stagger on his feet, and Sharon turns to throw a hard punch into his chest.

Then she watches as he hits the railing, slides on the slick tile, and falls over the edge.

And for as quick as the struggle started, time seems to stop in that moment. Sharon can't do anything other than stand frozen in place, not daring look at what lies at the bottom of the stairwell.

Two hands are on her arms a moment later, and her scream cuts through the overwhelming silence that was threatening to consume her just a second before.

"It's alright. You're alright."

Fury materializes next to her seemingly out of thin air, steadying her shaking knees and pulling her even further away from the ledge and the gruesome sight that now lays at the bottom.

"He jumped. The evidence was insurmountable, and he jumped."

Sharon's not sure where she finds the strength to argue, summing it up to the fact that her Aunt probably would do the same.

"Does anyone around here tell the truth?"

"Of course not dear. This is DC."

He continues supporting her with an arm around her waist, carrying her through the threshold into an empty elevator and pulling out his cellphone.

"You're young, Ms. Carter. You don't want to have this ordeal in your ledger for the rest of your life."

Every aspect of these past two days, all the deceit and evil that she's witnessed is never going away, certainly she can live with the blood on her hands belonging to the monster that caused all this to begin with.

Fury seems deep in concentration while the phone in his hand rings, and once again, the images of Pierce's face as he fell to his death plague Sharon's mind as silence fills the small space around the two of them.

"Major Danvers, this is Director Fury. I need a direct line to the president."

Sharon has followed Carol Danver's career with both NASA and the Air Force for years, and under other circumstances, she'd probably be very star struck in this moment.

"What do you mean? Can't it be tracked? If it doesn't belong to us, then where did it come from?"

And just when she thought the day had finally eased up in the twists and turns....

Fury hangs up the phone with an absolutely haunted face painting his features, and Sharon can't bring herself to ask what it was that has him so disturbed.

"There's a nuke headed straight for Waverly. The pilot seems to have been working with Pierce and.... and Hydra."

That has her springing out of the dark recesses of her mind to once again assume her agent roll, remembering exactly what's at stake, as she hands the number to the Sat phone in Rhodey's possession to Fury.

"Call this number. Rhodes is still in Waverly. Someone needs to get in touch with Jack Rollins and tell him he's out of a job."

Fury dials the number as instructed, and slowly, Sharon's hope once again dies away as the phone rings, and then continues ringing and ringing until Fury finally ends the call.

He tries once, twice, three more times with no answer yet again.

"No answer."

"Can't we get another bird in the air? Take down or redirect the Hydra fighter?"

Sharon's damn near vibrating with panic, only able to see a quaint town that she spent so much of her childhood in engulfed in flames, Rhodes and the rest gone with it.

"The closest municipal base we have is in Nevada. They'd never make it in time."

Once again, she's sending a prayer to her Aunt Peggy, leaving it all in the hands of someone whose proven time and again how expertly she can handle situations such as this.

 

* * *

 

 

"Nat, look!"

Clint's already racing ahead of her as she takes sight of the tractor to a big rig parked in a small garage off the main wing of the building.

"It's on the lift, but I should be able to back it right off."

"I remember you saying that about the Jeep when you got it stuck on the snow bank last year. Then you totaled it."

And the tractor, and a golf cart a few months ago, and one of the department issued cruisers.

Clint, by all accounts, is accident prone. Vehicles are no exception.

"Check on those hooks over there for any keys. I'm gonna look in these drawers."

Right where Clint had pointed, Nat finds an old metal desk with a pin board hanging above it, only a few sets of keys hanging on the many hooks.

Plucking every one in sight, she makes her way up onto the lift that the truck is sat on, using one hand to grab purchase on the rig itself, and pulling the door open with the other.

Her shrill scream has Clint throwing his head up from where he's near tucked into a drawer on the opposite side of the garage, hitting his head against the hard surface above it in the process.

"What!? What's wrong?"

Nat just has her hands covering her face, and on the ground at her feet is the poor soul that had been manning the rig, a single gunshot wound to the head.

Clint's got Nat in a tight embrace moments later, helping her up to take a seat in the now empty truck.

"Let's find out which keys work and then get the Hell out of here."

The power to the complex dies the moment the words are off his lips, and paralleling another shrill scream from his wife, he's being yanked from the truck and pulled to the ground underneath it.

 

* * *

 

 

"Any luck, Stevie?"

Though he can cook and bake better than most, and Steve is actually so bad at both it should be criminal, the blond is most definitely a grilling pro. Bucky's pretty sure the insides shouldn't be so pink, but, who knows?

Oh, that's right. Steve knows.

"If you even think about jumping out and scaring me, you are never allowed in my pants again. I'm so serious."

Just then, the lights in the complex go dark, and Bucky almost drops the spatula in shock.

"I warned you, asshole! Better order a lifetime supply of playboys and lotion!"

He still gets no response from his fiancé, causing his mind to immediately jump to every worst case scenario fathomable.

He remembers walking down back alleys and empty car lots toward the sounds of a struggle, calling Steve's name and getting no response in turn.

Slowly, he peers through the open window into the kitchen, and it's just as silent and lifeless as the dining area he's currently in.

Then, his heart nearly leaps from his chest when he turns and sees a dark figure, definitely not his fiancé, moving toward the building out in the parking lot.

Bucky fights the urge to scream and dips behind the serving counter, trying to steady his breathing and stay as quiet as possible.

He waits what feels like a lifetime, but never hears the bell above the door signaling the figure from outside had made his way into the diner. That has him, still as quietly as possible, crawling across the tile to a small gray container sitting on one of the top shelves of the bar he's hiding behind, pulling out the biggest and sharpest steak knife he can find.

With each passing second, his panic surges inside him. Steve is still nowhere to be seen and now they've got another infected on their hands.

Going against every voice in his head screaming at him to stay hidden, he slowly rises to his feet to survey the room.

What he finds are three dead pairs of eyes staring murderously back at him.

 

* * *

 

 

This is it.

Rollins is the last remaining harbinger of Pierce's evil still remaining in Waverly.

And Rhodey is going to kill him.

He's going to make sure the man meets his buddy Brock in Hell, and Tony and Pepper and every other innocent soul that was a victim of this evil gets some inkling of the justice they deserve.

"Colonel Rhodes. I was hoping I'd find you here."

Rhodey just stares down the bastard in front of him, and the five men flanking him, all but two of which are armed.

Jack Rollins is just another protege of the superiors that trained him. Men like John Garrett and the like that Rhodey always despised. It's going to be such a pleasure to watch as the life drains from his eyes.

Without warning, two of Rollin's thugs are moving in on the Colonel, guns raised.

Every oath he ever made, every promise he gave to protect this country and its people ring in his mind as he effortlessly snaps the arm of the first attacker that gets to close, stealing the man's gun away and putting a bullet in him and the second man, then shooting the third armed soldier, before finally training the barrel on Rollins himself.

The man actually laughs, raising both hands in the air, smiling a grotesque smile back at Rhodey.

"You were always so righteous, Colonel. Tell me, who is going to remember this town ten years from now? What line of defense can we utilize against our enemies without first adhering to trial and error."

Rhodey takes a step closer, never wavering in his determination.

"Can you just shut the fuck up? I'm getting really tired of this anti-hero rhetoric from you asshats."

Another laugh, and then Rollins is signaling for his final soldier to advance on Rhodey, who is caught off guard as his weapon is kicked from his grasp as another kick sends his body careening backward into the van behind him.

This final man is far younger and faster than Rhodey himself, and he has hardly any time to gather himself before the man is lunging at him again, now with a blade raised.

He swats away the first two blows, but a third cuts into the top of his shoulder, and in the momentary blinding sensation of the blade being imbedded into his skin, the man is able to throw a hard punch up into Rhodey's jaw.

_"You really sure you wanna get your ass kicked for the rest of your life?"_

_Tony's got a mischievous smirk dancing on his lips as he hands his friend a wet cloth, and Rhodey can't help but wince as he presses it to his bruised and bloodied face._

_"The whole point of the training is that I don't get my ass kicked once I get out in the field."_

_His best friend just continues on with his shit-eating grin, once again taking his place in front of the heaps of work and notes sprawled across the kitchen table of their tiny apartment._

_Rhodey finally sighs and moves to sit across from Tony, stealing a piece of the sub he'd been munching on._

_"One of these days I'm going to make a difference, Tony. I'm gonna really help people."_

_Rather than the snarky retort or dismissive joke he's expecting, Tony doesn't look up from his work, but smiles a genuine smile regardless._

_"I know you will."_

The Colonel uses what leverage he can find to plant his feet firmly into the concrete underneath them and throw his shoulder into his attacker.

This catches the man off guard, and Rhodey takes the opportunity to pull the blade lodged in his shoulder out and turn it on the soldier.

Focusing his rage, his grief, and every amount of pain he and every other poor soul in this town has felt in the past few days, he schools his features, waiting for his attacker to pounce once again.

He does, and Rhodey immediately side steps him, throwing the blade into the back of his head the minute the man is within reach.

The air hangs deadly quiet for a beat, and Rhodey can hear nothing but his own heavy breathing.

Then Rollins begins to applaud, slowly moving toward the Colonel with a much more hostile gleam in his eyes.

"My turn."

 

* * *

 

 

"Clint!"

_"Get on the ground, boy. Don't make me grab my belt again."_

Clint's not sure which voices are real, and which his head are toying him with as he picks his head up from the cold concrete it landed on a moment earlier.

And it's just like being seven years old again, the dark figure looming over him very much like his father after having one too many drinks.

_"You ain't good for anything. You hear me!? Nothing!"_

He's able to roll himself over just in time to avoid the heavy boot that slams down where his head had been. Then, he's being lifted by a hulking form by his throat against the side of the concrete barrier he'd been dragged down into, fighting for air as he stares into two lifeless eyes.

The lights in the garage suddenly burst back to life, and Nat looks up in time to see a figure just on the other side of the observation glass holding a rifle toward her head.

In a heartbeat, she has the driver's side door to the truck closed as the bullets begin to pierce the metal.

Back under the rig, the large devil still has Clint by the throat, and it takes only a few moments for his vision to start to fade.

Above him, he can hear the sound of gunshots being fired against the metallic lining of the truck, and can only pray that Nat is tucked away out of the line of fire. As his peripheral vision blurs in and out of being, he spots a large metal wrench off to the side of his head, and without warning, grabs it and jams it into his attacker's eye.

Back up above, Nat has only seconds to think before the shooter is moving toward the truck. She moves quickly and opens the passenger side door, then ducks into the backseat and holds her breath.

The man slowly opens up the door and peers his gun in first, followed by his head, and Natasha watches his eyes scan the wide open passenger door, knowing that he had fallen for her trick.

She's able to wrestle his gun away and throw the stock into his face, sending him falling backwards out onto the ground.

With one pull of the trigger, the man is completely motionless in a puddle of blood, and she takes a second to calm her trembling hands and try to push away the nagging horror that she just killed a man.

Then, a strangled cry from underneath the truck has her whipping her head around in time to see Clint get punched in the face by a menacing looking figure.

Three more bloodied figures come running into the garage then, and before she can register the action, Nat is using the final two shells to put two of them down. The last is undeterred, and she has mere seconds to grasp the barrel of the rifle like a baseball bat and deliver one good blow to knock the third onto the ground.

Another piercing shout from her husband has her attention pulled away, and in that brief second, the man she'd just knocked to the ground gets back to his feet and lunges at her.

Her head hits the door of the truck with bruising force and she loses her footing, falling to her knees.

Back underneath the truck, Clint is still struggling to keep himself alive, even with one of his attacker's eyes impaled by a rusty metal wrench.

The man is huge, and each of his blows leave Clint more and more disoriented, his body screaming in pain.

He throws his already injured hand up to catch a punch thrown at his face, and a blinding white pain shoots through him.

The second punch hits him square in the jaw, and he falls to the ground as the man begins to stalk toward him again.

Back above, Nat pushes herself to her feet in time to use both hands to grab her attacker's wrist, stopping the knife he had plunging toward her face in the process.

She feels her strength waining, and each second the blade in front of her is pushed closer and closer toward her face.

Then, she lifts one of her feet and slams it into the bastard's knee, and moves her head in time for the blade to puncture the truck.

As she untangles herself from the man, another figure is moving in fast, and her heart stops before she watches as Sam pushes the man's head forward, impaling him on the blade protruding from the rig.

Clint can only just pull himself up onto his elbows before he's once again rolling out of the way of another kick.

Once on his back, he's able to throw both feet up into the man's stomach, sending him back a few steps, largely undeterred.

Clint begins to inch backward as the giant once more steps toward him, then watches in shock as Bobbi slides underneath the truck behind the man, jumping up enough to grab ahold of an axel above her head and swing her legs to kick the man in the back, sending him sprawling onto the floor. From there, she grabs a large pair of channel locks and throws them twice, three, four, five times into the back of the man's head until she's sure he won't be getting up again.

She and Clint hold each other's gaze, both breathing heavily before she's grabbing his hand and hoisting him to his feet.

"Thanks, Birdie."

"Don't mention it, Sport."

 

* * *

 

 

He's running.

Bucky doesn't dare look behind him as he bolts through the pitch black corridors of the massive kitchen, not seeing any signs of his fiancé.

He can hear the sound of several footsteps following in his path, and picks up his pace until he's out of the kitchen and back in what looks to be some sort of loading bay.

The footsteps behind him keep growing increasingly louder, and to his horror, one of the open bay doors is cascading the shadows of another four or so other figures headed his way.

Taking off again, he dips into a dark corridor, no doors or windows, and pushes past the pain in his abdomen from Sitwell's blade to run as fast as he can.

He can't help the aborted shriek in his throat when he turns a corner and finds a good dozen bodies lying in an endless Crimson pool.

Then, he gets an idea.

Dropping to his knees, he places two flat palms in the pool of red and brings them up to paint his shirt before lying flat on his back and steadying his breathing.

Then, he closes his eyes.

He wants to find a better paying job, even if he has to drive back and forth to Cedar Rapids every day. He'd like to help Steve save up as much money as they can before they decide to adopt, that way there is enough money saved for a nursery.

Steve doesn't know it, but he'd also like a wrap around porch one day, even if it has to wait a few years.

The sound of heavy breathing and too many footsteps to count keep increasing in volume, and he continues to try and keep his mind occupied and breathing even.

He wants to save enough money to help his mother retire early and buy her a small little house on the Carolina coast. After watching Sarah pass far too early, he and Steve both agree that Winifred deserves to be pampered.

He knows for certain the group is right on him by now, he can hear their labored breaths and the powerful thuds of their boots on the concrete around him.

He remains paralyzed in his spot and tries not to think about the fact that he still has no idea where Steve is.

Then, very lightly, the plates in his prosthetic begin to shift, and he immediately tenses, praying that it was quiet enough to go unheard.

It's almost like being tied to that table back in the morgue again, Sitwell looming over him, dealing out his fate as if it were any other sermon he'd preach on a Sunday morning. He's straining with the effort to hold his breath and stay still, slowly peeking an eye open to see what he's dealing with.

There are seven mindless souls that he can directly see, and thankfully, not a one has noticed his little act.

Then, stepping directly behind his head, he's aware of the sound of a knife being pulled from a sheath, as his mind begins to go into a panic. Half of him wants to stand and bolt right then and there, while the other half knows with an almost perfect certainty that he'll never make it past these monsters if he tries.

The sound of another set of footsteps descending quickly resonates in the concrete chamber, and Bucky just continues his act, praying that he can outsmart death.

 

* * *

 

 

"I could only find yellow-American, sugar. That okay?"

The lights in the building cut out in response to his question, and Steve swears he sees a figure move past him in his periphery.

His heart begins to beat frantically, slamming at the confinements of his ribs, and primal, decades-old instinct has him darting back to where he left Bucky.

"Buck!?"

No response. In that moment, he apologizes a thousand times over for all the times he threw himself into fights or came home with bloody lips and black eyes, Bucky always patching him up. This feeling? This awful anticipation and dread; he hates himself for ever putting Bucky through it.

"Bucky!!??"

He runs through a set of swinging doors to find himself standing in a gift shop, nowhere near the dining counter Bucky was at.

He turns on his heel and darts back through the dark corridors of the kitchen, all the while shouting his fiancé's name. With each call getting no response, Steve grows more and more despaired.

Another set of swinging doors open into a large loading bay, and he takes a moment to catch his breath and calm his screaming mind. He takes note of a large crow bar sitting up against the wall next to him and grabs it in his hands, slowly moving into the room.

"You've done a bang up fucking job of protecting the man you love, Rogers."

His hands tremble at his own words, and he swallows down the venom in his throat, trying to channel all of his pent up rage and fear into finding his fiancé.

Suddenly all he can see is Sitwell's ominous form looming over Bucky, preparing to kill him, and Steve throws the crow bar into a row of empty beer bottles sitting on a work bench in front of him, huffing in anger.

In the silent aftermath of his outburst, he faintly hears a heavy group of breaths coming from a corridor to his left, and as he steps closer, he can see the shadowed outline of a group of men.

As quietly as he can manage, Steve creeps around the corner toward the group, counting seven men, all with some type of cleaver or knife or something of the sort in hand.

Then, paralleling the final break in his psyche, he takes notice of the various bodies strewn around the ground at the group's feet, eyes finally landing on his fiancé's face, laying in a pool of blood at the feet of one of the men, who has a knife pulled.

He's always run head first into fights when the cause was worth it. There was always some helpless soul who needed his help, at least in his own righteous mind. Even when the odds were against him, Steve never held back from seeing that the wrong was righted.

As he advances on these men however, a blind, all-consuming rage is the only thing driving him, all that he knows.

Every last God damn reason for living and breathing in this world, the one thing that kept him going after losing his mother, is now lying on the floor; gone.

Steve is only slightly aware of the massive amounts of crimson splattering his face and body as he enacts his vengeance on the men, each one helpless to defend themselves from his torrent of blows.

He thinks of Jane and Thor, of Tony and Pepper and Maria, and all that he's lost; thinks of the last person left to fight for lying dead on the concrete behind him, and it's almost enough to drown out the sounds of bone breaking with each swing he takes.

The final bastard goes down just as easily as the rest of them, but that is no deterrent to Steve's immense fury, continuing to throw the metal bar repeatedly into the man's skull, only fueled by the mess he's making.

Two hands take a firm hold on his shoulders a moment later, and even in his mess of anger and grief, he'd recognize the weight of the metal prosthetic anywhere.

"Steve!"

His hands are still violently shaking as he drops his makeshift weapon and turns around to see the terrified stormy blue eyes of the love of his life staring back at him. It's all he's got not to fall to his knees. He grabs Bucky and pulls him tight against his chest instead.

"Bucky?"

Bucky holds him back just as tight, burying his face in the crook of Steve's neck, hands digging into the fabric of his shirt.

"I'm here. I'm okay... We're okay."

Steve just continues to cling Bucky to him, aware of the hot tears stinging his face. His hold becomes slightly firmer, cradling Bucky to him with everything he's got, still afraid that none of this is real.

"Buck... I.... I saw you on the ground, and...I thought I lost you."

"Shhh, I know. I know, I'm sorry. But I'm alright."

He, with no small amount of effort, pulls away from Steve's grasp, taking his left hand in his own, tracing a finger over the inscription, 'To The End Of The Line.'

"You still owe me that renovation, Stevie. And you're still selling the Harley. You're not getting out of it that easy."

Steve lets loose a wet laugh and pulls Bucky back into a tight embrace before grabbing his hand and leading him back toward the main area of the building.

"Let's get outta here. I can't wait to marry the fuck outta you."

The words no sooner leave Steve's mouth when a crash followed by blood-curdling shouts ring in the metal confines behind them.

Another group of men are suddenly charging their way once again, and Steve continues to pull Bucky along toward the front of the building and the rest of their group.

"Never seen you run away from a fight before, Stevie."

Steve lets out an almost unhinged, maniacal laugh as he throws a door open to the backside of the kitchen, turning quickly to flash a smile at his fiancé.

"I can go back there if you want."

"Don't even think about it. Go through the door on the right."

He throws open another set of doors and they once again find themselves in the dining area before turning and bolting into the small gift shop next to it.

"Where the Hell is everyone else?"

Another group of near a dozen men turn a corner up ahead of them, and Steve and Bucky suddenly find themselves severely outnumbered.

Steve pulls Bucky behind him and the brunet keeps ahold of his shoulders, praying he doesn't try anything stupid.

"So I think I'll go for the big ugly one on the right first."

"Steve..."

"Then I'll take the blade he's got and use it on the two in the back."

"Steve, don't you dare."

Before their bickering can continue, one of the men lunges toward them, but is cut short as a massive truck barrels through the glass windows beside them, taking the entire group with them.

The passenger door is opened to reveal Sam smiling down at them, extending a hand for them both to take.

"You boys need a lift?"

 

 

* * *

 

 

Rollins lunges at Rhodey with shocking precision, forcing the colonel into an immediate defensive position.

His body is screaming in protest, the stress and pain of the past few days taking a toll as he tries to block each of Rollins' brutal strikes.

"What do you owe these people, Colonel?"

Rollins strikes him in the gut.

"Why give your life for them? For anyone?"

He's thrown to the ground.

"The only person in this world worth looking out for is yourself. No one else is going to do you any favors."

Rhodey rolls out of the way before the heel of Rollins' boot can bash his skull.

"You could have been a force with HYDRA's help. Instead you waste your life on a town no one will remember a decade from now."

Rhodey finally gets a hit in, throwing a punch across Rollins' jaw.

"Didn't I tell you to shut the fuck up?"

The man gives another cliche evil sneer before catching Rhodey's second blow and throwing a punch into his gut.

"Who was in that car Colonel? Who was so important that you're willing to sit here and let me beat you to death?"

He parallels his words by tossing Rhodes onto his back and pinning him to the ground before throwing a punch across his face.

"That jackass Mayor? You were willing to stay behind and die for him?"

Another blow lands across Rhodey's face.

"The backwoods sheriff who was raised in a circus?"

He's hit again.

"A couple of faggots? A reformed criminal? You could have been great!"

Rollins picks him up with two hands around his throat, and Rhodey struggles to fight for every breath.

"Why come and face me alone? You had to know I'd kill you."

Rhodey gasps in all the air he can manage, before finding purchase on the foot ramp of the truck Rollins has him pressed against, throwing his fist into the man's face.

He doesn't have a chance to advance on Rollins again because a second later, a massive truck comes barreling out of a bay door in the back on the building, halting to a stop just in front of Rollins' stunned face.

"I've had about enough of you people thinking..."

Sam's got a bullet in the man's forehead before he can finish voicing his thoughts.

"I don't know what town you thought you were in, Colonel, but here in Waverly we never leave family behind."

Rhodey limps his way over to where Natasha is waiting with the door to the backseat open, all but collapsing once he reaches the foot stand of the truck, Steve offering a hand to help him up.

There's a glaring pit in his stomach as he foolishly realizes he was expecting to see Tony and Pepper in the truck as well.

And he's infinitely glad that he didn't allow any small glimmer of hope to flare on his mind because a moment later, Rollins' radio is crackling to life and paralyzing everyone in shock.

_"Five minutes from drop point. Evacuate all operatives."_

Sam is the first to start moving, helping Steve hoist Rhodes into the truck as Bucky moves into the blond's lap to make room for them both. Clint grabs the radio from Rollins' belt and jumps in the truck alongside his wife as Bobbi puts the thing in gear and peels out of the parking lot and onto open road.

"Take a right on 49."

"You wanna go to Cedar Rapids, Rogers, or Timbuktu?"

"Well, what do you suggest, Sam?"

"Stay on 151, it'll cut out like ten minutes."

"We might not even have that long."

Bucky stares down at the radio in Clint's hands, who holds it up so everyone in the small cabin can hear the voice from the other end.

_"T minus three minutes and counting."_

He shares a disparaging look with his wife before turning and facing the Colonel whose stare is no longer vacant and distant but brimming with a morbid anticipation for whatever the countdown entails.

"Is it a little too hopeful to ask if these guys are coming to our rescue?"

Rhodey lets loose a crazed laugh, turning and staring out the rear window of the truck before spinning back around and addressing the sheriff.

"I don't have any friends left in D.C."

Bobbi shifts the truck into gear and presses down as hard as she can on the gas, not daring glimpse in the rear view mirror, rather staring ahead at the dark and open stretch of road.

Nat can't handle the silence of the cabin, reaching ahead of her and turning the dial of the radio on.

_"See me ride out of the sunset, on your color tv screen."_

Rhodey can't help the small chuckle in that moment, knowing Tony is the one who is playing this song right now, messing with all of them.

As the chorus to TNT starts, it's paralleled by the radio crackling to life once again.

_"Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven, twenty-six...."_

Bobbi just continues down the highway with a steady pressure on the gas, Sam reaching over the seat to take a hold of her shoulder with one hand, clutching Riley's dog tags in the other.

To his right, Rhodey has his eyes glued on the horizon outside the rear window, scanning the pitch black for any indication of what is to come.

_"Sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, thirteen..."_

Bucky turns away from the radio in Clint's hands and tries to the best of his ability to drown out the the ominous sounds of the countdown it's broadcasting, leaning into Steve who wraps his arms around him and holds him close.

Steve gives Sam a meaningful look before kissing the top of Bucky's head and closing his eyes, reminding himself of all the undelivered promises he owes the man in his lap.

_"Seven, six, five, four...."_

Clint just shuts the radio off and throws it on the floor below him, wrapping an arm around Natasha and placing an open palm against her stomach.

Nat uses one hand to rest over her stomach, placing the other on Bobbi's arm and giving a squeeze.

She lets her eyes slide shut as the sounds of the music playing and engine running drown out the voices in her mind, and one of the last things she registers before a blinding white light encapsulates the small confines of the truck is how safe she feels tucked into Clint's arms.

 

 

 

_"Direct hit."_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where do I even begin? This was my first chartered work and I am really proud of how it turned out! I've got an epilogue and a playlist coming up after this, but thank you all for sticking around even when my updates were virtually non-existent!


End file.
